


Like the Moon Over Water

by Ailette



Category: Primeval
Genre: Fix-It, Imported, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-16
Updated: 2009-10-18
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 2.07; an SOS signal reaches the team through an anomaly. They never could have guessed who the sender was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Somehow, the words “Another Anomaly opened!” didn’t excite Nick Cutter anymore in the way they used to. He just nodded his head, grabbed for his backpack and followed Connor out to the cars. 

“Did anything make it through?” he asked, because no matter what had happened, it was still his job to keep people safe.

_ Then why didn’t you do your job with Stephen? _ an all too familiar small voice in his head asked him bitterly. It sounded like Helen.

“No reports of anything so far,” Abby supplied helpfully while rummaging through the glove compartment, “But there’s apparently some sort of radio signal coming through the anomaly. Might be some soldier who got left behind or… or another civilian who accidentally walked into the anomaly.” Nick could practically hear how she refrained from saying ‘Helen’. He appreciated the effort, but it wasn’t like the everyday civilian who stumbled into the Jurassic era would also have a radio on them. Or even know how to use one.

They arrived at an abandoned parking lot behind some old outlet store and Nick found grim satisfaction in the fact that at least no one was likely to accidentally walk in on them here. No immediate danger for anyone. 

_ Except there always was. _

He could make out the glittering shards of air behind one of the black SUV’s, surrounded by a handful of armed soldiers. One of them waved Nick over and handed him a version of what looked like Connor’s handheld anomaly detector, seemingly modified to detect – what was it? An emergency signal. Or a trap. Depending on who really was on the other side.

“It’s a simple SOS signal, over and over again. No vocal contact, so we don’t know for sure what’s going on. Thompson checked the readings of the other side of the anomaly and it seems safe. Whoever’s sending the signal is at least a couple of hundred metres away from the anomaly, though.”

Nick nodded, assessing quickly how many people were crossing with him and trying desperately to ignore the whispered ‘ _Who are you going to lose this time?_ ’ in his mind before he stepped into the shower of bright lights and away from London. He couldn’t allow himself the luxury of doubt right now. Not with others still depending on him.

“Well, at least the weather’s nicer here,” one of the soldiers remarked dryly as he looked around. As always, the scenery was breathtaking. Far stretches of wild grass, reaching up to their hips and effectively blocking the view from any eventual creatures that were maybe lurking and waiting for them to step right into their open mouths. But the really big creatures were probably waiting in the forest anyway. It didn’t look to be one of the insanely big forests and easy enough to see anything coming from a nice and possibly life-saving distance, with the tree trunks reaching high up into the sky before the first branches shyly began to sprout. 

“Let’s hope that’ll stay your biggest concern,” Nick said absently and focused on the blinking signal from the detector in his hands. “Looks like whoever is asking for help is in the forest.” Striding forward, he aimed his binoculars at the forest, trying to get a glimpse of whoever pretended to need their help. The detector was a big help when you were looking for anomalies, but then it was easier to find a brightly shining field of what looked like glass shards hanging in midair than it was to find a person in the shadow of countless trees. Sighing, he put the binoculars away again and instead focused on the things he could see around him and the strengthening beep of the detector as he started walking towards the treeline. 

Sharp eyes roaming over the ground, he had to admit that he was at least a little glad for the escort of soldiers. It gave him a ( _delusive_ ) sense of safety and meant that he didn’t have to try and constantly check all directions and the sky at the same time. Maybe it should worry him that the presence of guns had become soothing for him; reassuring in a way that no weapon ever should. What would be next? Would he try and pet a raptor, or rekindle his relationship with Helen? Both things sounded about equally appalling, so at least some of his sanity was still intact.

“Hey!” 

In one practised movement, six machine guns were all trained in the same direction. Nick himself jumped at the shout. None of them moved; all just waiting anxiously for something terrible ( _bad_ ) to happen.

“Hey, I’m over—” a sharp cough interrupted the rough male voice and Nick relaxed just the slightest bit. Whoever this was – it wasn’t Helen and at the very least sounded like he really did need their help. “I’m over here! Hey!”

“Professor?” One of the soldiers – Thompson, God, he really should make an effort to learn their names, Ryan did have days off, after all – asked, glancing nervously from him to the direction where the shouting and coughing were coming from. It took Nick a second to realise that the man was waiting for an order.

“Um, right. Don’t shoot. Let’s see for ourselves what’s going on there.”

The cry for help had completely turned into a violent coughing fit, making it easy to pinpoint the man’s exact location. It looked like he had hidden behind some bushes, out of sight enough that they probably would have walked right past him if he hadn’t started calling out for them. Nick waited a moment to give the soldiers a chance to flank him and train their weapons into the bushes before he took a deep breath and stepped forward, brushing the huge leaves aside in one fluid motion.

“Thank God it’s you,” the man before him rasped, one arm pressed tightly to his chest as he was propped up against a large tree trunk. There was dried blood practically covering every centimetre of him, countless cuts and bruises probably hidden by torn street clothes, but they couldn’t hide the way his left leg was twisted at an odd angle or that his breathing was very irregular. 

Nick just stood there, stupidly gaping as Thompson appeared next to him, mirroring the professor’s expression unknowingly. There was no need for an order to lower the weapons, as soon as the soldiers laid eyes on the man on the ground they did it without conscious thought.

“Stephen,” Nick whispered, nearly soundless, trying to make sense of the sight of his best friend lying in front of him. His dead best friend.

And Stephen just grinned that infuriatingly handsome grin of his, belying the pain he so obviously had to be in and waved with the hand he wasn’t clutching to his chest. “Hey, Nick.”

***

Even at the hospital, Nick was still shaking his head in disbelief as he walked up and down in the waiting area. Connor didn’t look much better than him, every couple of minutes starting to babble something about alternate realities and different timelines before abruptly shutting up again to stare at his shoes. Out of everyone involved, Abby seemed to be the one coping the best. As soon as they’d stumbled back through the anomaly, Stephen heavily leaning on Nick to carefully limp the couple of hundred metres back and completely focused on his breathing, everyone had just stood there, Connor even dropping the piece of no doubt expensive equipment he had been playing with. Nick had felt Stephen’s grip on his shoulder weakening and heard the sigh of relief as the other man suddenly lost consciousness and began to fall over, but was too slow to secure his grip around Stephen’s waist. It had been Abby who had quick-wittedly jumped forward and grabbed hold of him.

If she hadn’t acted so fast, Stephen’s injuries would probably be even worse. Sure, Nick wasn’t a doctor, but when Jenny started talking about cracked ribs and possibly damaged lungs, he didn’t bother to question her knowledge and just hurried his friend to casualty. That had been over two hours ago. 

He was about to ask Connor to get some coffee for them when he heard the swishing sound of the double doors leading to this corridor. When he looked up and saw that the man in the white lab coat was heading directly in their direction, he halted, suddenly afraid of what the doctor would say. It was irrational and he knew it, somewhere at the very back of his mind, but rationality had lost all its importance when Stephen had closed that door behind him to never come out again.

“I assume you’re Mr. Hart’s family?” the doctor asked, a clearly practised and yet still kind expression on his face.

Nick was about to deny that, his thoughts absently wandering to Stephen’s mum and sisters and that they had to be informed about this… new development, when Abby again proved her adaptability. 

“The closest thing, really,” she said with a slow smile. The doctor considered her for a moment before he sighed and nodded, stretching his hand out towards her.

“Very well, then. My name is Doctor Matthews and I’m attending Mr. Hart for now. Did the paramedic inform you about the extent of his injuries?” 

“I drove him here,” Nick muttered defiantly, as if challenging Dr. Matthews to tell him that had been a bad decision. But the man was obviously used to handling cranky family members of his patients and didn’t so much as bat an eyelid in annoyance.

“Okay. Mr. Hart received severe internal injuries across his whole body and an amount of superficial cuts and bruises. His left leg was broken in two places, but the operation went well and in a couple of weeks he should be able to walk properly again. He also dislocated his left shoulder and seemingly wrenched it back into its socket by himself,” Connor visibly flinched at the mere thought. “So he’ll have to keep the bandages on until the swelling goes down and then start physical therapy to strengthen his shoulder. His ribs,” he paused shortly to check on the flip board he was holding before he continued. “Are only cracked, we can’t do much more than apply the tight bandage which might lead to some problems in his breathing, but it will at most take a month to heal them completely. Probably only about two weeks. There are also two deeper cuts on his left arm that we had to stitch up,” the man paused briefly to frown almost comically at his chart. “Now, I see here that Mr. Hart allegedly received all these injuries during a _car accident_.”

The doctor’s eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline. “And if Ms. Lewis hadn’t already called me and told me to mind my own business, I would probably ask you why those cuts looked like big teeth marks and what kind of _car_ Mr. Hart was driving during that _accident_. But as it is I quite like my position here and would prefer it if the Government didn’t meddle in my affairs, so I’m just going to ask which one of you is Nick Cutter.”

Nick found himself sending a mental note of thanks to Jenny before he hurriedly nodded, “That’s me.”

“Alright then, Mr. Hart would like to see you. Follow me.” He turned on his heel and took four steps before he whirled around again, finger pointing towards Abby and Connor who had simultaneously got up to follow suit. “I’m afraid Mr. Hart isn’t in any condition to see more than one visitor. So. You two, stay.”

Connor gaped at the man, turned to Nick who was following the doctor without looking back and then turned to Abby who just shrugged and sat down again. 

“The professor should see him first,” she said with the voice that meant that she was bothered by something but wouldn’t do anything about it. For now. “Would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?”

*** 

Nick hesitantly knocked on the door of Stephen’s room and immediately felt stupid for it. Stephen had specifically asked for him, the only way he would disturb the other man was if he woke him up. Which knocking would do a fine job of.

“Come in, Nick,” even through the door Stephen’s voice sounded hoarse - but also faintly amused.

Smiling sheepishly, Nick ducked into the room. Instantly, he found himself glad that it was a private room, giving him and Stephen all the… well, privacy, they needed. He dragged one of the cushioned white chairs off the wall and towards the bed, greedily sucking in every detail of Stephen as he lay there. How pale his face was; even more so in stark contrast to the white bed sheets and countless plasters and bandages all over his body. Somehow, he hadn’t looked as bad with the dirty blood-smeared clothes he had worn in the forest which were now more or less folded on one of the chairs on the other side of the bed, a small pile of things hidden beneath a large silk handkerchief pressing it down. 

“Hey,” he said softly as he sat down.

“Hey yourself,” Stephen replied easily, his eyes gleaming with amusement.   


Nick briefly wondered whether the doctor had supplied his friend with the really good drugs or if Stephen was just honestly happy to see him. Still, he found himself mirroring the smile Stephen sent him.

“Sorry if I’m being a little slow here,” he started with a very low chuckle. The whole situation was just too surreal. The last time his life had been turned upside down like this, he had lost Claudia. This time it gave him back probably the most important person in his life. “But I’m still…” Awed, overwhelmed, jubilant, gobsmacked; there were too many adjectives in the English language alone, so he started again, a little more purpose behind it this time. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Stephen’s eyebrows drew together for a second before he visibly decided to just go along with whatever Nick was playing at. “Going after Helen, of course. I even managed to track her down at some point, but then we were attacked by some Gojirasaurus and I lost her again. I managed to drag myself back to the anomaly, but it had closed by the time I got back. I went to the nearest spot with a regularly appearing anomaly, but it took me over a week to even get there. I’m sorry it took me so long, Nick. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

_ You don’t know the half of it _ , Nick thought bitterly before shaking his head and gripping Stephen’s hand to remind himself that he was back and also to reassure Stephen. “Stephen… do you know a Claudia Brown?” As Stephen carefully gave a negative jerk of his head, Nick had to briefly close his eyes. Stephen hadn’t come from the same timeline… reality… whatever he had left then. “Jenny Lewis?” This time Stephen nodded. “Okay, that’s good, too. Let’s see… um… Where do you remember us working?”

“The ARC, of course. Now, can we stop with the mind testing? I was stranded in the prehistoric era for nearly two weeks, badly injured and now hospitalised and you haven’t even properly said hello yet.” If Nick didn’t know any better, he would have said Stephen was pouting. 

“Um,” he brought out intelligently and looked at Stephen for help. He knew that his greeting had been a little underwhelming, even if he didn’t consider Stephen’s return from the dead, but what was he supposed to do now? A hug would have been the natural thing to do, he supposed, but the circumstances looked rather painful for Stephen should he try that. At a loss, he just stared down at Stephen’s uninjured hand.

Stephen’s snort let his eyes snap up again and he consequently missed the quick movement of Stephen’s hand. “Oh, come here, you,” Stephen rasped playfully and with a strength and speed that no man this injured should have, Stephen grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him forward, into an open mouthed kiss. 

Nick was honestly too dumbstruck in that moment to do anything but open his own mouth in surprise, yelping slightly when he could feel Stephen’s tongue clashing against his own. As if electrified by that touch, Nick’s body was under his control again and he jumped back, eyes and mouth wide open, no doubt looking like the metaphorical deer in the headlights.

Again, credit went to Stephen as he seemed to grasp the situation a lot faster than he should have. His right hand was dangling at his side and his brows furrowed deeply as he looked at Nick. As his eyes made direct contact, Nick shuddered at the blazing blue that met him. “What the hell, Nick?” 

“What the hell, _me_? What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The anger had taken him over before his brain could catch up with him.

“Oh, _I don’t know_ ,” Stephen snarled irritated, “Kissing my boyfriend after I got back from millions of years in the past? After I risked my arse to run after his crazy ex-wife because he told me to? After I got attacked by bleeding dinosaurs and nearly starved to death waiting for that damn anomaly to open up again? After…” A fierce coughing fit started to violently shake his whole body and without thinking, Nick was at his side again, handing his friend the water from the table and pressed a soothing hand down on his chest, careful not to hurt his friend any further.

His mind was racing through all the possibilities, too many to even stop and consider each one for more than a brief moment, but it all seemed to end on the same note: Stephen had kissed him. Stephen thought Nick was his boyfriend. Stephen in this reality was dead. This Stephen came from a reality were the two of them were a _couple_. 

“Calm down,” Nick instructed uselessly as Stephen’s breathing slowly evened out again. Ruefully, he remembered that Dr. Matthews had told him not to aggravate his patient. Well, he hadn’t exactly planned on causing this.

“Don’t bloody tell me to calm down,” Stephen spat and somewhere found the strength to bat Nick’s hand away from him. “What is this, you decided to break up with me while I was gone or something? Or maybe you finally went after Jenny?” 

Nick was just about to snap back with a harsh explanation, but stopped when he noticed the way Stephen’s voice was shaking. He didn’t just sound angry, but also… hurt. Nick felt his chest tighten at the thought of what he was about to do to Stephen and how badly he himself had been hurt when he realised that he had come back to a changed world. This would be so much harder for his friend.

“No, wait. Listen to me, okay? I can explain,” he paused for a moment, holding out his palms in a calming gesture, even though he felt like it would do as much good with Stephen as it did with enraged gorgonopsids. “Do you remember when I came back from an anomaly and asked for Claudia Brown? After I had gone into the past with Helen, Ryan and a handful of other soldiers?”

“No, I do not remember that,” Stephen bit out.

“Then that probably didn’t happen,” Nick said, mostly to himself and just held up a hand again to prevent any complaints from the younger man. There was no way Stephen wouldn’t remember that. Especially since Helen had dropped her little bomb immediately afterwards and the way he’d practically gone mental upon seeing Captain Ryan calmly standing next to Lester and realising that nobody knew Claudia Brown. Well, that only made things a tad more complicated. “Look, this is going to sound insane and Connor can probably explain this a lot better than me, but… You entered a different reality. It has happened to me before, too. People changed, the timeline is a bit different and some things never happened while others you don’t recall did. In this reality, you and me…” He swallowed around the words. “We’re just friends.”

“That’s got to be the lamest break-up line I have ever heard,” Stephen choked out and again Nick felt his heart clench in sympathy. He wanted to spare his friend this, he really did, but there was no easy way to do this. So he dived back into his explanation, trying to recall all the things Connor and Helen had said at some point, all the observations he himself had made over time and gave examples where he could. He began to talk about certain events in his and Stephen’s past, supplying them with as much detail as he could remember and eventually asking Stephen if he experienced it the same way or not. By the time he was done, it had become dark outside and he couldn’t clearly make out the other man’s face anymore. 

“Are you alright?” he finally asked pathetically.

“What do you think?” Stephen replied bitterly, but without the venom that had laced his voice earlier. 

“I’m so sorry, Stephen,” Nick said earnestly and covered Stephen’s hand with his own, meaning to give a reassuring squeeze when it drew back.

“Don’t,” Stephen just said. A small eternity of silence passed before his voice filled the room again. “You can go now, Ni—Cutter.” He sounded so tired and defeated; Nick didn’t want to leave him like this.

“Stephen—”

“Just go. Please.” Stephen’s voice cracked on the last word and Nick got up from his chair, nodding. As he reached the door, he turned around again, to apologise one more time maybe, when a stray flicker of light flashed over the younger man’s face. It was too brief to really see anything, but the overflowing tears were evident enough. Without another word, Nick left the room. There was only space for one thought in his head, and it repeated itself over and over again, drowning him in guilt. _He’d never seen Stephen cry before_. 

To be honest, he hadn’t even thought it possible until now.


	2. Chapter 2

When Abby saw the professor storm out of the hospital room like Stephen had just tried to set him on fire, she knew that something had to be terribly wrong. She considered stopping him for a moment, but the wild look in Cutter’s eyes at the mere movement of her hand made her stop. And chide herself, because really, she’d known him what now? Nearly two years? She was perfectly aware that hell would freeze over before Nick Cutter would so much as think about talking to her about whatever had him this riled up. Maybe to Stephen, but in this case…  
  
“Hey, got you a cappuccino,” Connor announced proudly as he reappeared in front of her. She raised an eyebrow at him, briefly wondering where the hell he had gone this time to get that when her gaze flickered over the Starbucks logo on the cup. It was rather remarkable how Connor managed to run from one coffee shop to the other just to distract himself for a little bit longer.  
  
Smiling gratefully, she took the miraculously still hot cup from his gloved fingers and motioned for him to sit back down beside her. “Thank you.”  
  
Connor’s grin threatened to reach his ears at any moment, making it obvious how happy he was even though he made a dismissive hand gesture. “Tis nothing.” He bowed his head and lifted his hat, making them both chuckle. Staring at his own steaming cup of tea, he shot a quick glance towards Stephen’s room. “The professor still in there?”  
  
Abby’s smile faded. “No, he darted out of here just a minute ago. Seemed pretty shaken, too.” She took another sip of her cappuccino. It was her third since she’d asked Connor to go and get some this afternoon. “Maybe we should check on Stephen,” she added thoughtfully.  
  
“You mean you should check on Stephen,” Connor said without taking his eyes off his tea with a look that clearly read, ‘Bloody thermo-cups.’ He’d probably wait another half hour before he dared to sip at it.  
  
“Yeah,” Abby chuckled. After all, Connor had a bad habit of dropping one clanger after the other. Especially in life threatening or highly emotional situations. Draining the last of her drink, she threw the cup into the waste bin before jumping up. “I can call you in when the air is clear,” she offered while dusting invisible dirt off her jeans.   
  
“You do that,” Connor agreed easily and gave a little wave. “Godspeed.”   
  
Laughing a little, Abby smacked his arm before she sauntered off into the direction Cutter had come from. She hesitated for a second with her hand on the doorknob, listening for any suspicious noises. She could hear something like… sniffling? Sneaking back a good ten steps, she faked a loud coughing fit for nearly a minute before stomping back to the door, very slowly opening it.  
  
Lights were out and she couldn’t even see Stephen at first. Was he sleeping? “Stephen?” she whispered in the general direction of the bed.  
  
“Yeah,” came the hoarse reply. “Sorry, Abby. Could you switch the lights on?”  
  
Abby obliged after some fumbling along the wall and then turned to finally get a look at her long thought to be lost friend. It was hard to believe that the badly beat-up man with the red rimmed eyes and unaesthetically flattened hair was the same inescapably handsome and downright unhealthily active Stephen Hart. Still, she could feel another wave of relief wash over her, similar to the one she had experienced when he had first limbed out of the anomaly. Heavily, she sat down in the chair next to his bed.  
  
“God, you’re alive,” she breathed in awe.  
  
It was a sign of either good pain medication or very real exhaustion that Stephen didn’t even frown at that. “I wasn’t hurt that badly, Abby. Just a couple of cracked or broken bones and some bruises. Nothing serious.”  
  
Abby swallowed the sarcastic reply that Stephen was probably the only guy who wouldn’t consider cracked or broken bones to be serious (apart from maybe blokes like Indiana Jones or James Bond – the action hero kind). “No, I mean you were dead. I saw –” _the few pieces the horde of creatures left of you_ – “your body. We buried you nearly two months ago.”  
  
To her surprise, Stephen at first didn’t seem to react at all. He just leaned his head back against the pillow and pressed his eyes shut – Abby acted like she didn’t see the small tear that rolled down his cheek, just like she hadn’t said anything about his blood-shot eyes or the way they were just a tad too bright.   
  
“Dead, too, huh,” he muttered indifferently. It tore at Abby’s heart to see him like this. She shouldn’t be the one telling him this; she knew that for a fact. Even though she had no idea who was supposed to be the right person for a topic like this.   
  
“If you don’t mind me asking… The professor looked pretty upset when he left. What happened?”  
  
Too blue eyes snapped open again, their gaze tired and defeated; so unlike the Stephen she knew. “I might have traumatised him by pouncing on him,” he said dryly.  
  
Abby gaped. “What?”  
  
“You said I was dead here. In… this timeline. Reality. Ask Connor about it, he’s the sci-fi slash physics geek. I only know what Nick—Cutter explained to me,” he searched her face for a sign that she was still with him, so she nodded hastily. “The world I remember, is one where I’m very much alive and in a relationship with one Professor Nick Cutter. Have been for nearly a year now.”  
  
In an implicitness that astonished both of them, Abby just nodded. With an ironically bad sense of humour, she remembered Connor telling her that Stephen was gay. She recalled a certain sadness at the thought but at the same time the acceptance of the fact that the man she had a crush on was indeed in love with his boss. It had made sense then; it made so much more sense now after the world had turned topsy-turvy enough that she wouldn’t have been surprised if Stephen had come back with tits or wings or even both.  
  
Stephen’s self-deprecating chuckle startled her back into the present. “At least you don’t seem to be any different. Still quick on the uptake. You were the one who first figured Nick and me out back then, too. And you were by far the one who took it best. Connor looked like his brain had just imploded and Jenny like someone had just smacked her in the gob. Well, at least I won’t have to deal with Lester’s talk about ‘ _no couples on the team_ ’ anymore.” Again, the dark chuckle that made the little hairs on her neck stand on end.  
  
She found herself squeezing Stephen’s good hand on the bed, feeling nothing but sympathy at the implications of the revelation. “That’s just too cruel,” she whispered and leaned forward to awkwardly hug Stephen as the chuckle hiccupped into silent sobbing.  
  
***  
  
  
It took Nick Cutter over a week to get back into that hospital room. Sure, he had gone to the hospital numerous times. The very next day even. But when he arrived, he saw Abby sitting in the waiting area, shaking her head at him.   
  
“I think it’s better if he doesn’t see you today,” she’d said, voice full of sympathy – for Nick.   
  
He swallowed any protest that was welling up in his throat and went straight back to his truck. The next few times he either chickened out at the reception (the man sitting behind it was beginning to give him strange looks every time he came through the door) or simply asked one of the nurses for updates on Stephen’s condition and then left again. Both Abby and Connor (and one time even Jenny) kept him informed about how Stephen was doing, from what he had been talking about to what the hospital had served for lunch that day (depending on who he was talking to). On the ninth day after Stephen’s return Connor finally mentioned in passing that Stephen had asked about him. It was all the justification Nick needed to go.  
  
He forwent the knock this time and slowly stepped inside. The nurse had told him that Stephen sometimes napped during the day and he really didn’t want to disturb him. But the worry was yet again unfounded, as he found Stephen with his nose buried in a thick book; he couldn’t make out the title from where he stood, but the sailing ship on the cover was a good enough hint at the genre. A little awkwardly, he cleared his throat. Stephen was as bad as he was when it came to reading something interesting and still paying attention to his surroundings – it just didn’t work.  
  
“Oh, hey,” Stephen greeted in surprise, obviously biting down on Nick’s name as he lowered his book to the covers.  
  
Nick nodded and pointed to the chair that still stood at Stephen’s bed side. “Do you mind if I…?”  
  
Stephen hastily shook his head. “No, of course not. Sit down. I’ve been wondering if you’d come by again,” his tone was teasing and friendly, helping Nick a long way to ease up.  
  
“I wasn’t too sure if you wanted to see me again, to be honest.”  
  
“Yeah… Sorry about that. I needed some time to adjust to things, I guess.” He shrugged and smiled a little sheepishly. “What with me entering a whole new reality where I was dead and never showed any interest in you? Don’t know which one surprised me more.”  
  
Nick stared at his friend, surprised by the 180° turn he had seemed to have made since he’d last seen him. Stephen looked relaxed, his eyes clear from any bitterness or resentment and if Nick hadn’t known any better, he would have taken any bet that this was Stephen during one of their hour long work sessions at uni, telling him some weird gossip he’d gathered in the cafeteria a week ago. And then it clicked – Stephen was practically doing the same thing here. He was trying to lighten up the mood and cheer Nick up. The whole concept was just wrong. It should be Nick who was brightening the mood, because he had got his best friend back after having lost him forever and Stephen… Stephen had lost everything he knew and probably would never regain it.  
  
He cleared his throat again, this time to clear his mind more than anything else. “Abby and Connor told you what happened to the you of this reality then, huh?”   
  
Stephen nodded, his smile faltering just a fraction. “Seems like my mum was right in the end, it will get you in trouble if you’re always playing the hero. But at least no one else got hurt.”  
  
Somehow, he had managed to drag them from one awkward topic to the next, an even more dangerous one. God, he should have taken one of those motivational courses they were always offering at university. “Do you know when you’re going to be getting out yet?” The change in topics was painfully obvious, but Stephen had the courtesy to just roll with it.  
  
“The day after tomorrow, if the x-ray is all right. Which brings me to a question I didn’t want to ask the others. Where did I live here?”  
  
Nick could see why he would be the recipient of such an elemental inquiry. Everyone was dancing around the word ‘death’ and all related things when it came to even mentioning Stephen. And that was when he wasn’t even anywhere near to hear them. The younger man was bright enough to notice something like that when people were around him and try to avoid it wherever he could.   
  
“You live… lived in a flat near the university.”   
  
Stephen’s face lit up at that. “Oh, I remember that one. Was nice and roomy, I kind of missed the view after I moved… somewhere else. Be nice to live there again.”  
  
“About that,” Nick hesitated. He hated to trample on every bit of hope Stephen gathered. “It was sold again after you – the other you – died. Most of the furniture was auctioned off; everything but some of the personal stuff. Photos, souvenirs from some of the places you went, your notebooks… That kind of stuff. Your mum came over and picked it up.”  
  
“Oh. Well.” Stephen looked so utterly crestfallen; Nick desperately searched his memories for something good, anything that would bring that hopeful smile back on his friend’s face. _There_. It wasn’t something big, but better than nothing.  
  
“But I’ve got a box with your personal belongings from the office and you forgot your emergency backpack at my house after the last excursion. There are still some of your clothes in there… I could bring it over tomorrow if you want. Or, well, that would be stupid if you’re released the following day. Where will you be staying after you’re let out?” The torrent of words left his mouth at a rate that left him panting slightly. It seemed to confuse Stephen a little.  
  
“Um, I don’t really know yet. I thought I could go back to wherever I lived here, but…”  
  
“You can always stay at my house until you’re better,” Nick blurted out and found himself wondering, once again, when his mouth had become faster than his brain. It wasn’t exactly a healthy development. “I mean, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable…”  
  
The slightly shocked expression on Stephen’s face melted into one of good natured surprise. “That’d make things a lot easier. If you’re sure you want me there.”  
  
“Of course I do! How many times have you let me stay over after we got pissed at the pub? The least I can do is return the favour.” They both knew that wasn’t the reason why Nick had offered, but neither of them cared to mention it.   
  
Nick found himself smiling at the dearly missed comfortable silence they found themselves in. It hadn’t been there since long before Stephen had made that foolishly brave decision and it had been Nick’s fault at the time. If he had just got over his thick headedness and forgiven him – no, told him that he was forgiven, because Nick had found that he never really blamed him for what had happened. Helen was as manipulative as they got, long years of separation and worry had made him forget about it, had made it possible for her to become a faint and perfect version of herself in his mind that took a long time to erase. They’ve had more than their fair share of problems long before she vanished and if he was entirely honest with himself, he had to admit that he’d thought about divorce far more than he should have at the time.  
  
And Stephen had told him, more than once, that his affair with Helen must have taken place after their issues surfaced and that it didn’t last long. He had never doubted his friend’s words, but he found himself still bitter about the loss of Claudia, the loss of his _world_ , if you wanted. Somehow, he had unloaded all his troubles and anger on Stephen. Stephen, who had been his best friend for years, had saved his life by risking his own on more than one occasion ( _had given it away in the end_ ). No matter how he thought about it now, he hadn’t done right by his friend and suddenly it became the most important thing in the world to tell Stephen, this Stephen, that he forgave him, had long since done so.  
  
“Stephen, about the thing with Helen—”   
  
“Mr. Hart, it’s time for your change of bandages… Oh, hello there, Professor Cutter,” the ward sister said by way of greeting as she entered, two other nurses following her. “I’m sorry to interrupt the two of you, but this might take a while. Why don’t you come back tomorrow?”  
  
Nick stared at her; for a second horrified that she might tell Stephen that he had been here far more often than he cared to admit. “Oh. Well.” He looked back to Stephen who seemed strangely relieved by the interruption. A small frown crept onto his features as he regarded his friend. “I suppose I could try and get some of your stuff back this afternoon and bring it over tomorrow.”  
  
Stephen’s left eyebrow rose in what looked like barely held back amusement. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” At the blank stare he got, Stephen continued. “Tomorrow are midterm exams. You have to be there for those?”  
  
The irony of Stephen reminding him of this didn’t escape him. Connor had probably told the younger man about recent uni events, but it was still like some sort of weird tradition for his lab assistant to remind him of important exams he had completely forgotten about. He could get rather lost in studying skulls and bones for days and consequently leaving Stephen or other colleagues alone with the students.   
  
“Right,” he exclaimed as brightly as he could in order to not completely lose face. “I’ll come by the day after tomorrow then, to pick you up.” He briefly squeezed Stephen’s good hand as a way of farewell and turned to the ward sister. “About what time should I come for him?”   
  
The elderly woman picked up the flip chart, skimming the contents until she found what she was looking for. “Around four pm. Now, if you don’t mind, we have work to do.”  
  
A little embarrassed, Nick ducked his head and nodded, waving back at Stephen and muttering a “See you,” before he left.   
  
“Right.”  
  
He ignored the giggle of the two younger nurses and wondered briefly why in God’s name they would need three people to change bandages. Shaking his head, he made his way to the truck. He had every intention of pounding the streets for some of Stephen’s old stuff (there was hope that some of the smaller pieces of furniture hadn’t been sold yet) and maybe even check in with his mum (though he wasn’t sure what he would tell her yet) when his eyes fell on the pile of reports on the backseat he had been laying off for over a month now. Sighing, he decided to get these done first and then see to all things related to Stephen, including tidying up the house for a guest. It had been a while since anyone had stayed over and he wasn’t quite sure if the guest room could still be called that if it was loaded with boxes, paperwork and old clothes.  
  
***  
  
The piles of things were still there two days later, when Nick heard his front door open with the familiar loud click of a key turning in the lock. He frowned at the stack of papers in his hands and tried to recall anyone who’d have any right to be entering his house without invitation before he remembered the dangers of doing top secret government work and quickly let the papers drop quietly onto the nearest shelf. He could hear muffled voices and some shuffling as he carefully entered the stairwell. Whoever it was, they were obviously pretty confident in their abilities if they broke into another man’s house while chatting away. Becoming slightly nervous, Nick made a grab for the nearest object – one of the pot plants on the window shelf in this case. Well, it was better than nothing. Suddenly, the voices vanished and the door was being shut with too much force, making the glass rattle in its frame.   
  
Now decidedly annoyed with the strangers, Nick took a leap from the stairs and into the entrance area, ready to throw the improvised weapon in his hand. He was more than a little surprised to find Stephen standing not a metre away from him, mouth hanging slightly open as if he was about to call out before Nick had made his bad ninja like appearance. A new rucksack sat at his feet and he was heavily leaning on a crutch on his right side, his left arm hanging uselessly in a sling and his leg in a cast.   
  
“What are you doing here?” Nick burst out, simultaneously lowering his ‘weapon’.  
  
“You offered me a place to stay,” Stephen reminded him gently, one edge of his mouth threatening to quirk up. Clearly, there was something going on here that Nick hadn’t noticed yet.  
  
“I know that,” he grit out; Stephen should know better than to tease him with obvious statements. “But I said I’d come and pick you up at four.”  
  
Stephen bit down on his lower lip, dropping his head for a moment until he had his amusement back under control. “It’s half past five, Nick.”  
  
“It’s…” Nick quickly checked the clock over the kitchen door, as he rarely ever wore a watch. He cursed quietly (to Stephen’s continued joviality) before he started a rather piteous apology which Stephen just waved away with a dangerously looking flick of his hand. The man should be careful with hand gestures as long as he was dependant on crutches.  
  
“Forget it, I ordered a cab straight after you left on Tuesday anyway, so it would have been rather embarrassing if you had actually shown up at the hospital.”  
  
Nick felt his eyebrows rise at that. True, he forgot meetings, deadlines, dates or generally being social every now and then, but… “How did you know I wouldn’t?”  
  
Stephen gave him a pointed look that clearly read ‘ _Because I’ve met you, Nick Cutter_ ,’ which reminded Nick of his mother, in an odd way. “Please. You’re the man who can’t keep a plant alive for more than a week,” a very knowing look to the barely alive pot plant in Nick’s hands, “forgot to pick up the very important palaeontologist from Romania who you’ve wanted to meet forever, regularly loses or throws away student dissertations, locked out your boyfriend on your anni--” Stephen stopped dead, his eyes widening a little as he realised his own slip of tongue.   
  
“And generally lives in chaos,” he finished lamely, seeming more than a little embarrassed. Ladies and Gentleman: the enormous pink juggling elephant in the room.  
  
Nick winced in sympathy. He remembered the confusion all too well, and he’d barely just started _something_ with Claudia. For Stephen it had to be a whole different story. Nick’s thoughts came to a halt at that. Mentally rewinding, he looked more closely at the stray conclusion. He didn’t actually know anything about the relationship Stephen and… well, him, the other him, had had. He just assumed that it had been serious, because he couldn’t imagine any version of himself risking a friendship like his and Stephen’s for something less than meaningful.  
  
“Sorry,” Stephen muttered, his ears tinged pink at the tips. He was shaking a little, Nick noticed distractedly. How long had they been standing in the hallway?  
  
“Don’t apologise,” he advised sternly and then went to pick up the little bundle of luggage before motioning Stephen to follow him into the living room. “You’ve just lost your life as you know it; it’s only natural that you haven’t fully adjusted yet.” Jenny’s face entered his mind. “Some things, you’ll never get quite used to.”  
  
After disposing of the plant, he turned back to help Stephen get as close to comfortable as he could on the big couch before he sauntered into the kitchen to get a cold beer for him and some water for his friend. When he finally settled into the armchair, ostensibly focused on getting the cap off his drink, he volunteered, “But it helps to talk about it.”  
  
He didn’t need to look at Stephen to know the almost comically shocked expression he’d find there. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Nick Cutter wasn’t one to talk about his feelings - or those of others for that matter. But the silence lasted just a tad too long and when Nick finally did turn, the mixture of weariness and confusion written so clearly on Stephen’s face did surprise him.  
  
Wordlessly, he took a sip of his beer, wondering briefly when he’d bought those and if he couldn’t maybe offer Stephen one despite the medication he had to be on. Stephen just stared into the depth of his glass like he was contemplating whether or not it would suddenly turn into a Lycorhinus if he raised it to his lips. Or maybe he was wishing it would turn into something alcoholic, close to the lines of Nick’s own thinking.  
  
“You mentioned Helen in the hospital,” he eventually said, voice low. Nick knew him long enough to simply wait for him to continue. “In this timeline… What… Do you know what happened?”   
  
“If you’re referring to the affair you had with my wife, then yes, I know about it.” Fascinating how even after every instinct screamed at him not to repeat his mistakes, the words came out bitter and resentful. He forced himself to relive that horrible moment of realisation, when it became painfully definite that he would never be able to talk to Stephen again, to yell at him for his selfish sacrifice or sob into his shoulder that he didn’t owe Nick anything, certainly not his life. The pain was still lucid enough to make him wince. “So that happened in your timeline as well.”  
  
Ashamed, Stephen nodded. “I never got a chance to tell you. It was before I even knew she was your wife and it only lasted three weeks, but… By the time we first really became friends I couldn’t… I know I should have said something, I should have never—”  
  
“Stephen.” The one word was enough to shut the younger man up, an unreasonable fear dancing in his eyes. Nick recognised it, had seen it in the very same blue eyes the moment Helen started talking after they’d come back to a changed world and he’d seen it again a few times after. It was the fear of being shoved away ( _again_ ).   
  
“It’s alright.”   
  
He wanted to say the other three words that had haunted his nightmares for the last few weeks, but couldn’t bring himself to say them. Pathetic.   
  
When he glanced up, he saw an utterly grateful smile gracing Stephen’s lips and was reminded that they’d never needed many words. Stephen didn’t need to hear the explicit ‘ _I forgive you_ ,’ he could hear it in the calmness and determination of Nick’s voice just fine.  
  
“Why don’t you tell me about how things – we – were different in your timeline? I’m quite curious to hear about you and me as a couple, to be honest,” he laced the words with just enough humour to let Stephen know that he had every right in the world not to tell him; if he so chose.  
  
And while indeed, Stephen was hesitant, it was for entirely different reasons than Nick was assuming. “Are you really okay with me talking about _things_ like that?”  
  
Nick grimaced. “You make it sound like you’re glad you’re rid of me.”  
  
“No! I mean.” For what seemed like the first time in ages, Stephen actually looked at him, really looked at him. And suddenly snorted. “You’re an arse, you know that? If I could reach around and grab one of the pillows without falling off the couch, I’d throw one at you.”  
  
And Nick laughed out loud, a little startled by the sound. He hadn’t heard it for a long time. “It’s your own fault, really. Don’t take everything so serious.”  
  
“It’s the damn accent. I hear those Scottish vowels and I automatically tense up.”  
  
Nick snickered. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed their easy banter, the nonsense they could talk about at times without ever growing tired of it. “Don’t you try fooling me. I know how much you like it.” He let his accent thicken with every letter, grinning when Stephen pretended to make a grab for the big pillow behind his head. They both knew what would come next, having had countless similar exchanges over Nick’s way of speaking. “And you told me just how much that night after the Student party you dragged me to.”  
  
Stephen groaned in not entirely faked embarrassment. “That was before I knew to keep my mouth shut around you when I’m pissed. Couldn’t have known you had a memory like a bloody elephant; completely unaffected by the alcohol.”  
  
“You _never_ knew to keep your mouth shut when you’re pissed,” Nick reminded mercilessly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have told me about your crush on your Year Nine maths teacher. _Scottish_ maths teacher.”   
  
Stephen gaped at him. “I never told you that!”  
  
“You know, if you wanted to deny it, that was the wrong reaction,” Nick pointed out.  
  
“No, seriously. When have I supposedly told you about Mrs. Calder?”  
  
“Well, I don’t know the exact date. After some pub vis—No, wait, I remember. We were out to celebrate your appointment as my lab assistant. Over at the White Swan. Didn’t last long though, since you were on antibiotics or something else that didn’t go well with beer.”  
  
“That’s not…” Stephen shifted as best as he could to better focus on Cutter. “We didn’t go out to celebrate that night. I was down with the flu and we only went out two weeks later.”  
  
They stared at each other like they were hoping to maybe be able to convince the other of their version of the story that way. Nick tilted his head, unconsciously raising his hand to his face in thought.   
  
“Different histories,” he finally said. “I didn’t really think about it before, but a whole lot of things must have happened differently for you than they did for me.”   
  
It seemed glaringly obvious now that he had brought it back up. Some of the differences were so outstanding that he hadn’t ever really considered the details. How did Stephen, or the people in this timeline even, handle the first anomaly? Claudia didn’t exist here. How did they get involved with the government? And, yes, Stephen had never told the other Nick about Helen. Without Claudia kissing him good-bye at that anomaly, Helen would have had no reason to reveal her affair with Stephen.   
  
Suddenly curious, Nick found himself wondering about a whole different set of circumstances. Was it Claudia’s absence that made him turn to Stephen? Somehow, that didn’t seem like a very logical or even fair explanation.   
  
“How did you and I – the other me – end up together?” he asked carefully, trying to keep in mind that Stephen probably didn’t want to talk about it.  
  
The nervous look he got in response certified that. Stephen squirmed a little on the couch, eyes shifting away from Nick and towards a spot on the table. “You’re not letting go of that easily, are you?” Nick was half tempted to give a sarcastic reply; after all Stephen complained about his stubbornness every other day usually.   
  
“It happened about seven months ago, when we were cleaning out the office at the university. You were bitching about having to move into that – and I quote – ‘bloody sterile box of an office’.” A very distant smile crossed Stephen’s features as his eyes glazed over when he started recounting the whole event from memory; sharing an experience that never had and never would happen in this reality.   
  
He didn’t say it now and he didn’t say it then, but Stephen would also dearly miss their shared office. Somehow, it didn’t seem fair that they had to give this up, even if they got to hunt and analyse dinosaurs in return. It had to be every palaeontologist’s wet dream, to get to do what they did nearly every day now. And though it was exciting, sometimes Stephen just wished that they had never come across the anomalies. Helen would have stayed dead to them, not become a constant dull fear in the back of his mind.   
  
This, he had thought sadly, had been their lives for many years. This chaos of papers, files, maps and the odd exhibit or model. Miserable and yet unwilling to let it show any more than he could control, he had grabbed another empty cardboard box and put it next to the desk. Cutter’s working area was arguably the most hazardous place in the room; one was constantly in danger of being struck dead by a pile of shakily stacked books. Sighing quietly to himself, he started carefully heaving things from the desk.  
  
“Do you have any idea where the cranial bone from Manchester went?”  
  
Stephen didn’t bother to turn around, since Cutter was probably still hidden from view by the overcrowded shelves. “I just hope it didn’t go anywhere by itself,” he muttered dryly into the box at his feet. He’d thought it was too silent for his boss to hear, but Cutter chuckled in the background.   
  
“I take that as a no, then.”  
  
He couldn’t help the quirk of his lips. So they were losing their beloved work environment. At least he still had Cutter. He wouldn’t know what to do without the other man anymore, having got used to his near constant presence in his life. Of all the people he could have been stuck with in this crazy adventure of sorts, he couldn’t begin to express how glad he was that Nick Cutter was one of them. Admittedly, the reasons for that had to be kept secret since Nick probably wouldn’t appreciate learning that his lab assistant was still trying to get over his crush on him. Had been trying to for nearly two years by now.  
  
Frustrated by the way his thoughts still kept reeling back to Cutter, Stephen leaned over the desk just a little too far to fetch the forgotten student dissertation on Cutter’s chair. And, in retrospect, he should have remembered that acrobatic moves naturally were a horrendously stupid idea in this office. As he stretched out his arm for just another centimetre, already balancing on his toes, he suddenly felt his left foot slip away. His one thought while propelling forward was that he really should have checked the ground for loose sheets of paper. In a whirl of motion, that thought left him as he tried to grab for some kind of hold… Without success. He ended up sprawled awkwardly over the still too cluttered desk with a surprised ‘oomph’, arms clinging to the chair in order to not fall to the ground on the other side and praying that it wouldn’t move. If it hadn’t been for years of adrenaline spiking activities which almost always required sharp instincts and quick reflexes, he would have already crashed to the floor head first.  
  
“Stephen?” Distantly, he heard the quick footsteps signalling Cutter finally leaving his little wall of shelves. “Are you—” Cutter’s feet came to a quick halt simultaneously with his words.   
  
Slightly surprised by the lack of laughter but still too annoyed with his own uncharacteristic clumsiness, Stephen diligently wiggled his way backwards over the desk and his feet onto the ground. With a wince, he rubbed his chest where it had connected with the pencil holder painfully. As he turned around, he caught Cutter’s eyes wide and transfixed on him and his brain seemed to short circuit, because the next sarcastic words out of his mouth were,  
  
“Admiring the view, Professor?”  
  
However, when the older man just nodded, apparently a little out of it, he forgot that he was supposedly only making light of the situation. Cutter seemed to remember that as well, as his eyes lit up with something Stephen hadn’t seen directed at him ever before (because there was no way he wouldn’t remember a look like _that_ ) and strode forward to his assistant in three quick steps. For a silly second, Stephen feared that Cutter had somehow just read his thoughts. For the next far more clear seconds, he realised Cutter had crowded him back against the desk; making his body involuntarily connect with the wood for the second time that day. Only this time he had Cutter pressed up against him; Cutter who was angling his head forward and cupped his cheek before he closed the distance between them completely to kiss Stephen.  
  
It wasn’t like in the movies or some of those god-awful romance novels he had sometimes sneaked a peek into as a teenager; he saw it coming and reacted in the only way that made sense: he kissed right back. There was no teasing, no nibbling at lips, no sucking at tongues or playing around; just a clash of lips and then tongues in a mock fight for dominance. As unexpected kisses went, this was a good one and when they parted slightly, it was to get some air back into their lungs.  
  
Stephen couldn’t help the wide eyed stare when he could see Cutter’s whole face again. Normally soft blue eyes were dilated enough to make the colour become nothing but a thin ring around dilated black. His lips were glistening slightly from the moisture, making them look even more kissable than usual. And just like his assistant, he was panting a little and staring straight back at Stephen. But whatever he thought he saw there, he didn’t see the wonder or amazement in Stephen’s eyes and snapped his mouth shut immediately. One hand found its way into scruffy blond hair to scratch at the back of his head in a gesture that very clearly conveyed embarrassment.   
  
“Sorry,” he started and took a careful step back. Only, he didn’t get very far since Stephen’s hands grabbed him quickly by the collar of his shirt and pulled him roughly down again.  
  
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he growled against Cutter’s mouth before pressing his own against it. This time, the kiss didn’t last as long or did get too intimate (as kisses went) before Stephen broke the connection again to meet Cutter’s eyes full on. “You think about everything for ages before you do it, so don’t even think about pretending you kissed me and didn’t think about the consequences. And don’t start thinking about bad consequences _now_ , because there aren’t going to be any.”   
  
Inexplicably, Cutter began to grin at his words. “Alright. No thinking,” he agreed easily and let out a huffy laugh at Stephen’s surprised expression. There was something wrong with the world that he looked more shocked now that Nick didn’t argue more than when he had been dragged into a kiss without any obvious prelude. “What? One doesn’t argue a perfectly fine line of reasoning.” He leaned forward until his forehead rested against Stephen’s, allowing them to just gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment. “I should have tried this sooner,” Cutter added playfully and Stephen grinned.  
  
“Yeah,” he simply agreed.  
  
In the present, Stephen’s grin was a little shy, something that didn’t fit him at all. Nick just nodded as the story wrapped up, for the first time in his life feeling like he could understand those poor sods who lost their memory and had to be told their own lives. Because as absurd as it seemed in some aspects, it did sound like something that could have happened. Nick frowned at himself. Somewhere not here. In an alternate timeline. With a different version of himself.  
  
“Shocked?” Stephen asked dryly and Nick remembered that he was still very obviously lost in reverie.  
  
“Nah. Just surprised that I initiated it,” Nick admitted honestly. Somehow, he had been certain that Stephen must have been the one who took the first step. Just like he knew that the relationship had been something serious, only this time he had justified reason. Sure enough, he didn’t have a big history of dating women since he had met Helen during their college days, but the girls had always asked _him_ out. Or kissed him straight on the mouth in a bar to ‘get rid of babbling idiots’.   
  
“I was, too,” Stephen acknowledged and tried his best to suppress the yawn trying to sneak his way out into freedom. “So I take it nothing ever happened between this timeline’s Stephen and you, then?” He tried for nonchalant, like he didn’t care whether there was the slightest hope of… but no, he shouldn’t even think about it, and he knew it.  
  
Nick looked torn for a few seconds, like he couldn’t decide whether to straight out deny it or grant that there had been moments, when he had been wondering. It was impossible to not see how handsome Stephen was and even more difficult to not just fall for his easy-going charms. Their friendship had been very close from the start and they had probably spent more time with each other in the past nine years than most couples had, either because of work or because they actually wanted to. He couldn’t remember any clear lines or boundaries in their relationship which often made other people frown at them and sometimes come to the wrong conclusions. Just one of the many rumours floating around on campus he’d heard from Stephen. He’d laughed it off then, but now, with what he knew about a different life, he felt a little insecure. He’d never considered that Stephen might harbour feelings for him. What if he had?  
  
The thought stung and Nick briefly closed his eyes at the oncoming wave of guilt and flashes of Stephen’s face behind a too thick round glass window. “No, nothing ever happened,” he finally answered Stephen’s question. Reminding himself that Stephen was here again, that he was back and wouldn’t ever be taken away from him again. He wouldn’t allow it, no matter what.  
  
Silence fell upon them and Nick wracked his brain for something to say, something to return this conversation to the earlier light atmosphere. In the end, he was inspired by the fruit bowl on the table.   
  
“You hungry?” he prompted with more excitement in his voice than was reasonable. Stephen shot him a very dubious look.   
  
“You’re not planning on ‘cooking’, are you?”  
  
Nick could practically hear the quotation marks and gave Stephen his best offended look. “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t know about any other timelines, but in this one I’ll have you know I serve excellent food.” Stephen’s left eyebrow shot skywards. “So, what do you want to order?” he asked and waved towards the small pile of take-out leaflets weighed down by the heavy fruit bowl.


	3. Chapter 3

Absently, Nick was sorting through the pile of papers on the edge of his desk. Lester had pestered him about his second report on the anomaly to the Silurian period, or rather had sent Jenny to pester him. He didn’t mind the paperwork as much as he used to (and no matter what everyone else kept saying, he had known _before_ that chasing dinosaurs came with lots of filing), but a second report was just harassment. Especially since he knew for sure half the people reading it would have no idea what was going on in it, just like in the debriefing (and God, he hated those). Why did people only get interested after he mentioned giant scorpions? 

Sometimes, he really would have appreciated more experts on this team. Sure, Connor knew his way around most of the creatures they encountered, but he also started babbling about the latest developments on Torchwood or whatnot when he got bored. No, the only other real person to talk to about things like the latest plant samples they had brought in, the odd crooked teeth of the last raptor they had encountered or what era they had exactly stumbled into this time had been Stephen. Or sometimes snicker secretly about something Lester had said, they weren’t above things like that. It had become dull without Stephen, and to his surprise everyone had been affected, right down to the soldiers and lab assistants.

Nick had never fully realised just how much time Stephen really spent at the ARC, jogging from department to department to settle things Nick had forgotten to handle or just clear up some misunderstandings about their latest findings. Being himself, he of course had found at least a friendly word or a wink for everyone he interacted with. And hell, it was no surprise that the vast majority of the soldiers had held a massive amount of respect for the man. 

Still, another big part in this feeling of joint loss was something Nick knew very well. Guilt. Consciously or not, they had all taken sides after hearing about Stephen’s affair with Helen (and really, he should say it the other way around). The majority and first and foremost Abby had shown Stephen what they thought of what he’d done and what they thought of him for it. Others followed that lead with less vigour, but still thought the same; like Connor. The very few who had been objective enough to see Stephen’s point of view, were also clever enough to keep their mouths shut and declare themselves neutral (or didn’t comment on it at all, like Lester). 

But when the news had broken that Stephen was back, the whole building had seemed to suddenly become brighter. He had lost count of how many people (some he wasn’t even certain he had ever seen before) asked him when Stephen would come back to work. Lester’s latest secretary, he didn’t know her name yet, had even worryingly suggested that she could rig some files to hurry the process up since Stephen had technically been fired before his death. He was sure the woman had never met Stephen. Nick shook his head at the thought.

There was a dull knock on the metal door and Nick turned his head just enough to recognise Abby standing in the frame.

“What are you looking for this time?” She sounded a little too amused for Nick’s liking.

“The bloody report on the Silurian period,” he muttered, waited a second for good measure and then added, “The giant scorpions in the desert.”

Abby made a small ‘ooh’ing noise and then came in further, looking around as she crept up on Nick. “It’s a miracle you find anything in here, really.”

Nick sighed and decided to continue his search later. Flopping down into his creaking chair, he fixed Abby with his most stern Professor look until she started squirming under his gaze. “What is it, Abby? I can’t imagine you only came down to criticise my filing ability.”

The young woman had the decency to look at least a little sheepish, but ruined the effect completely by perching on the edge of Nick’s cluttered desk. “I wanted to know how you’re doing. With Stephen and everything.”

The way she was pronouncing ‘everything’ like it was some kind of secret codeword made Nick’s hackles stand on end. At the same time, a sort of panic washed over him and he took a short moment to wonder what that was about. Apparently, his puzzled thoughts had translated onto his face, since Abby indulged him and clarified.

“It didn’t seem like you reacted very well to the news of you and him having been a couple in his timeline. The original one, if I understand this whole time-mumbo-jumbo thing correctly.”

He couldn’t quite place the meaning of the last sentence, but the feeling of something amiss continued. But first and foremost, he was very certain that he didn’t want to have this conversation with Abby. Not now, not ever. How did she even know about them – that?  


“I was thrown off by Stephen being back at all, in case you didn’t realise. His different history… was just unexpected.”

She nodded, but narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like being nosy, you know. I’m just worried about him and don’t want to see the two of you like you were after that… after Helen’s revelation. You’ve both gone through enough.” Her voice grew pleading over the last couple of words and Nick relaxed a little. So she wasn’t here to blame him for anything. Still, she looked like she was on the verge of saying something else when the metal doors slid open again; this time to reveal Connor. Nick groaned inwardly. Why did everybody want to talk to him today? No one dared to just walk into his office usually.

“Oh, hey. There you are. I was looking for you,” Connor announced happily and grabbed Abby’s hand. “There’s some kind of problem with one of the plant samples downstairs. Are you finished here?”

Abby threw him an acid look, but sighed in surrender when Connor put on his most innocent cuddle-me-look. “Yeah, we’re done.” She let her friend proceed in dragging her to the door before she dug her heels in again. Nick had to bite down on a grin as he saw how Connor actually tried to move on, but was easily held back by Abby. “And, Cutter. Give him our love, yeah? We can't wait to see him here again.” 

Somehow, Nick mused after the two youngsters had finally left his office, he got the impression that Abby wasn’t actually greeting Stephen but telling him, Nick Cutter, not to screw this up. Might have had something to do with the earnest glare accompanying the friendly words of parting.

***

He shook his head once, as if to clear it before he entered his house. Lester had deigned to let him away early after he had finally found that report, so he’d dropped by his favourite Chinese place and got something to eat before he returned. There had been some leftovers in the fridge and Stephen had assured him about a dozen times that yes, he could operate the microwave even with just one good arm and leg, but there was no reason he shouldn’t bring something with him just in case.

As it was, Stephen was stretched out in the same spot as yesterday, the telly flickering in front of him and the commentator yelling about the striker not doing his job, _again_. The younger man seemed quite engrossed in the game, since he hadn’t even noticed Nick’s presence yet. Nick didn’t particularly care about football, but could sometimes be persuaded to watch a game with friends. Stephen, of course, was a sports nut. It figured that the man didn’t only just follow sports he excelled in, no, he also kept up with ones he didn't even participate in.

Grinning a little, Nick knocked on the wooden door frame to draw Stephen’s attention to him. With one eye still on the screen, Stephen uttered a “Welcome home,” before his concentration was consumed by the twenty-two little people on the field again.

Nick just let out a theatrical sigh and set down the boxes of Chinese so he could slip out of his coat and boots. “ Liverpool playing, then?” he asked and nudged Stephen’s side to get him to sit up and make some space for Nick on the couch. There was still more than enough room for him to put his leg up and besides, it would have been impossible to see anything from the armchair. Grudgingly, Stephen sat up and took the box Nick presented him with. It was an amazing sight, seeing how the younger man managed to move gracefully across the couch with one leg in a cast, his arm in a sling and seemingly effortlessly holding the food in his good hand. He spared a quick glance to look inside and then grinned at Nick. 

“Yeah. Thanks, mate.”

Nick made the universal gesture of ‘Don’t mention it,’ and also concentrated on the game. “I assume you still support  Leeds . And you’re not a Man-U fan, despite the different timeline.” 

Stephen nearly choked on his fried noodles and glared at Nick. “My family would disown me,” he said seriously and Nick laughed since it was probably true, too. The Hart’s were the  most affectionate and loving family you could imagine, but if it came down to football, they were ready to rip your heart out if you so much as thought about supporting Manchester United. The thought reminded him of something else, however.

“I called your mum today, from the office. She’s sending your stuff by mail, so it should be here in a couple of days. Jenny is working on clearing up your status as a living being, as well, so you can call her yourself soon.”

Stephen didn’t take his eyes from the screen, but the mad grin faded somewhat as he nodded. Nick knew that it had to be complicated, talking to your family after they thought you were dead. But he was also certain that there was more to it than ‘just’ that. Stephen wasn’t one to talk about himself a lot and that principle usually included partners, close friends and family. Nick had always assumed there was some bad history there and didn’t touch on the topic, until one day he brought a drunk Stephen back to his flat and used his keys. There was a small fob attached to the key ring and when Nick thoughtlessly opened the brown leather cover, it revealed two family pictures. One very old with Stephen maybe ten years old and his two sisters even younger on their mother’s lap and one having been taken maybe five years ago with Stephen in the centre framed by his family. The thing that threw Nick was the blinding smile that graced Stephen’s face in both of them. 

He’d eventually met them face to face for the first time at Stephen’s funeral; he’d only ever talked to Stephen’s mother over the phone on a few rare occasions. His mum was a mess, openly crying over the loss of her son while Christine, his baby sister, kept face and told Nick with steady eyes in a painfully familiar shade of blue about their childhood and how often Stephen would jokingly complain about having to grow up the rooster in a henhouse. With a sad smile, she admitted that it must have been pretty hard for him, with their mother always busy with the two youngest and barely any time for himself. He’d left for London as soon as he finished high school and rarely ever took the time to visit Manchester, though he was always glad to see his other sister Robyn come over while she was still studying at Kingston University. It seemed that she was currently doing a term in the  Netherlands and couldn’t come on short notice. Christine didn’t say anything about their father and Nick didn’t ask, already astounded that he had learned more about Stephen Hart on that one afternoon than he had in the last two years together. 

“I also got the paperwork if you want to get your old job at the ARC back,” Nick said in a belated attempt to pick up where he had just left off. He could see the wrinkles appear on Stephen’s forehead from the side and realised that for him, there were probably quite a few questions contained in the one sentence.

“If?”

Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief that Stephen didn’t question why he had to re-apply, Nick shrugged. He really could do without having to explain to him all the terrible things that had happened just before his death; he had told him that he wasn’t angry about his affair with Helen anymore and it was the truth. Now.

“Maybe you’re tired of all the near-death experiences, getting stuck in the past or losing your original timeline. It wasn’t exactly part of the job description when you agreed to become my lab assistant,” Nick elaborated carefully. He didn’t want to spook Stephen away from the ARC (the staff would probably feed him to one of their dinosaurs), but he couldn’t help but be worried about the other man. It hadn’t ended with near-death experiences, after all.

“Pff. Like I got into this for all the desk work,” Stephen replied dryly and a part of Nick was insanely glad to hear that. They followed the game in silence after that, only broken by Stephen’s occasional vocal disagreements with the referee’s decisions. Nick felt oddly drowsy after the meal and just leaned back to relax a little, letting his thoughts wander aimlessly. He must have even dozed off for a bit, since he woke up at Stephen’s movement next to him, closer than he had been before. Still not sparing any glances for his surroundings, Stephen had crawled completely back on the couch with both legs up and his back half leaning into Nick. 

It wasn’t uncomfortable; just a warming presence at his side, but it somehow made him jittery, nervous energy starting to run through his body and formulating the wish to move, get it out of his system… Relax again. He’d never had this problem before with Stephen, since such a thing as personal space didn’t seem to exist between them. Whether it came from sharing small spaces enforcedly during their many trips and excursions or from somewhere else, Nick didn’t know, but it had never bothered him before. This, on the other hand, felt different. Too intimate somehow, in a way that their relationship wasn’t. Hadn't been.

Stephen didn’t seem to notice his fidgety state, likely didn’t even think about his change in position. And for him, Nick suddenly realised, this was probably normal. If he indicated any uncomfortableness at all, he would no doubt embarrass his friend and make him reminisce again about what no longer was; something he wanted to avoid at all costs. He put his foot in his mouth often enough anyway.

So instead, he tried to focus on the match again and after a few minutes, he wryly thought that everything could be so much worse; he really didn’t have the right to complain.

*** 

Of course, Nick rarely got home early after that. The thing about their job was (or rather, one of the many, many things) that they didn’t exactly have days off (anomalies could always suddenly open) or have fixed work hours. Over the course of the next week, Nick only saw Stephen in the morning, since the younger man even got up early when he was obviously incapable of going for a run, and when he checked on him in the guest room at night. It felt like a creepy thing to do, but he just had to make sure that at the end of the day, the universe hadn’t suddenly decided to take Stephen away from him again because of something stupid he’d done in the past.

The sense of over-bearing and slightly inappropriate familiarity continued, though Nick soon realised that he really didn’t mind; it was just new. He very much doubted that Stephen was even aware of the quick touches as he walked past him or the lingering ones when they happened to exchange sections of the morning paper for example. For him, it was normal. It only felt a little alien to Nick, though he continued his don’t-ask-don’t-tell approach.

So it was a surprise to see the light shining through beneath the guest room’s door the next night Nick came home. It was well past  midnight and for a silly moment, Nick wondered if Stephen had stayed up to greet him. Which really was stupid – they’d see each other the next morning anyway. Not for long maybe, but they’d see each other. If there was anything to talk about, Stephen wouldn’t wait up for him until the sun came up.

Still, as Nick knocked gently, pushed the door open and peered inside, he was a little surprised to see that Stephen was indeed asleep. By the looks of it he’d fallen asleep while reading, if the open book on his chest was any indication. He’d taken the sling off yesterday morning, arguing that it was already much better since the swelling had gone down. Nick had checked, of course, and indeed the angry red had gone, leaving Stephen’s normal skin colour again, with barely any trace of the sustained injury. Eventually, Stephen had overridden all his worried protests with a simple and yet very effective strategy; he’d appealed to Nick’s guilty conscience. By reminding him that since he was on his own practically all day, he needed both hands. It had taken the right to argue for Stephen’s well-being out of his hands. Now, though, Stephen could hardly protest.

Carefully, Nick crept inside, a soft smile playing over his lips at the sight of his friend like this. He hadn’t come in the other nights, just checked up on him from the door. From this close, he could see the utterly relaxed expression on Stephen’s face and hear the steady intake and exhalation of breath. He reached for the book and cautiously began to pry it from Stephen’s unresisting fingers, but just as he sat it down on the nightstand (the opened pages scrupulously bookmarked), the younger man started to blink slowly. 

Squirming a little under the covers, Stephen squinted up at Nick with a yawn. He didn’t even open his eyes all the way. He must have been really exhausted, Nick realised. Today was Thursday, the one time in the week when Stephen’s physiotherapy session was twice as long. He’d meant to accompany him or at least drop Stephen off at the hospital, but the sudden, if not entirely unexpected, appearance of dinosaurs in the Tube had thrown a spanner in his plans. 

“Sorry to wake you up,” Nick whispered and reached for the light switch next to the headboard. 

“S’okay,” Stephen slurred in reply. “I don’t mind being woken up by you.”

The blinding if still sleepy smile caught Nick a little off guard. “Uh.”

For some reason, Stephen drowsily chuckled at his intelligent expression. He reached out with his good hand to cup Nick’s cheek and even though the only source of light now came from the hallway, Nick could still see the loving twinkle in his friend’s eyes as he regarded him. The touch morphed into a soft caress and Nick stood there, frozen to the spot. More out of reflex than conscious thought his own hand shot up and caught Stephen’s gently in his, holding it still. There was a next step he should take, Nick could feel his hand tingling with the need to move, he just wasn’t sure what that step was. It wasn’t until Stephen pulled his hand back under the bedding with a shudder that his brain caught up with him again.

“It’s freezing,” Stephen announced with a yawn. “Don’t stay up too late.” 

Nick nodded stupidly, watching as Stephen turned on his right side, away from him and seemingly fell asleep again almost as soon as his eyes slid closed. With a last wide eyed glance towards the covered form, Nick fled the room. Luckily he had the presence of mind to close the door silently and he automatically skipped the squeaky board on the landing, but as soon as he was in the safety of his own bedroom he let out a shaky laugh, his heart racing and his fingers twitching. It felt like he’d been holding his breath since Stephen’s fingers touched his skin and only now could breathe again.

Running a hand over his face, he threw a look in the mirror. He wasn’t really surprised to see the shocked man that looked back at him. That just now… It was so very different from the casual and forgetful touches that occurred on occasion. Stephen must have been half asleep, Nick reasoned. Not fully awake yet he must have forgotten about the insane things that had happened recently and believed himself to be back in his old life.

Nick was careful when it came to mentioning what they’d had in the timeline Stephen remembered, not wanting to stir up the awkwardness that bubbled so close to that topic. Stephen didn’t talk about it either, always quickly covering up and apologising if he did slip into familiar habits that were no longer appropriate now. It was like living with your ex when they knew you were in a new relationship, except that it wasn’t all that bad for Nick. He was still too glad that he had Stephen here with him to think too hard about anything else; for him nothing had changed. 

He couldn’t get Stephen’s happy expression out of his head as he eventually sat down on the edge of the mattress, half afraid that his knees were about to give out any second now. It had been ages since he’d last seen the younger man this unguardedly joyful. He couldn’t even remember when—no. That wasn’t right. He did remember. In the hospital, when he’d first come to speak to his friend after they had found him in the forest, when Stephen still believed them to be a couple. He’d looked just like he had now. 

Nick frowned. He hadn’t really noticed it until now, but Stephen didn’t look all that happy at the moment. He'd probably not noticed because, before his death, Stephen's already rare smiles hadn’t occurred around Nick anymore. So in comparison, the mirth between them was a positive development. And Nick himself had been enjoying Stephen’s presence far too much to actually look closer and find the small cracks in his friend’s smiles.

His thoughts ran around in those circles for the rest of the night. He must have slept a good eight hours, but he still felt knocked out when he crawled out of bed at the insistent beeping of his alarm clock. The worst thing was, he hadn’t even come to any kind of useful revelation during all the thinking and rethinking of their situations. The only conclusion he’d drawnwas that the whole situation seemed hardly fair. While Stephen fixed Nick's life and mind with his mere presence and, more often than not, reassuring and explaining words and gestures, the younger man got nothing in return. Even worse, he had to suffer under the situation as it was.

It was obvious from the way he held back on so many levels, that he didn’t even really trust Nick anymore. And Nick understood how difficult all of this had to be for him, but how was he supposed to repay his debt when Stephen didn’t even open up to him? And there lay the next problem. How could he help Stephen, if all the other man missed was a romantic relationship with Nick? He couldn’t give him that.

He stopped. There was a big glaring ‘What If?’ he hadn’t seen before. What if… he gave Stephen exactly what he wanted?


	4. Chapter 4

By the time he woke up, Stephen felt warm and very comfortable, taking the luxury of lounging under the sheets for a few more minutes. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be for the next few hours. Physiotherapy wasn't until four and no one had announced their intention of visiting him today. Sadly, he’d never been one for leisurely lying around doing nothing for long. His mother used to laughingly remark that he had enough nervous energy in him to provide electricity for the whole street. Still a little drowsy, he sat up and looked around with a yawn. He wondered briefly when he’d turned the light off, but then just shrugged and heaved himself out of bed. 

Expertly ignoring the pull in his left shoulder, he grabbed for the crutch leaning on the wall and hobbled to his feet. There was a small bathroom directly opposite the guest room; just a shower, toilet and sink, but it was all Stephen needed. As he crossed the hallway, the distantly familiar noises of someone rummaging in the kitchen reached his ears. From the silently muttered Scottish curses accompanying the sound, he deducted that the older man was trying to cook. But since he didn’t smell smoke yet, he first went to the bathroom anyway.

There was still no sign of fire when he limped into the kitchen, for which he was glad. He wasn’t a fan of fire in the house in general, but right now he wouldn’t even be much help with the flame extinguishing and he still doubted Nick’s skills when it came to anything kitchen related. Be it a fire or boiling water, the man needed supervision as soon as he came close to kitchenware.

“Morning,” Stephen said around a yawn. He glanced suspiciously towards whatever Nick was doing and was relieved to see that he’d just bought some fresh bread and was currently buttering up a couple of slices. 

Nick seemed to freeze for just the briefest of moments before he turned with a smile. “Good morning. I was up earlier than you.”

“You don’t say,” Stephen laughed and lowered himself into one of the chairs at the table. He wanted to offer his help, but knew from past experience that Nick was likely to threaten him with either the butter or the knife (whichever was closer) to let _him_ do something on his own for once.

It gave Stephen an opportunity to just watch his now just best friend again as he fumbled with spread and honey. Though Nick must have already left the house this morning, he still looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He’d let his hair grow lately and it was an unruly mop on his head, somehow only underlining the dishevelled old pair of jogging trousers and loose khaki t-shirt. Stephen allowed himself a knowing smile. 

He didn’t know how the older man had got himself dressed before he met Helen, but by the time she had vanished Stephen soon had to take pity on the terrified students and bribed his then mentor to go shopping for some new clothes. That tradition had continued over the years, to the point where Nick would see a hole in his jeans and turn to Stephen with a whined, ‘We have to go shopping again.’

It had confused more than a few people back then, maybe even started some of the first rumours about them. Though they’d only come together much later. And weren’t anymore, now, he reminded himself sternly as Nick placed a plate under his nose.

It was hard to remember that little and yet oh so significant detail. He was sure that he had accidentally overstepped their friendship's boundaries on a number of occasions, but Nick never said anything, making it even harder for Stephen to remember. Sometimes it wasn’t even conscious; he’d just get lost in thought or be confused by the feeling of familiarity. This morning it was even harder than usual, with the visuals from last night's dream about Nick tucking him in after he came back from work. The dreams were always so real, sometimes he woke up and was sure that this reality, no, this _timeline_ was the dream. And God, how he wished it was. This life was torture.

A huge setback, from the relationship he and Nick had finally acquired despite, or maybe because, of all the insane things that had happened to them. Nearly ten years it had taken them to get to the point where they finally realised and admitted their love for each other. And from one day to the next, it was all gone. Suddenly Nick was his best friend again, who seemed anything but happy at Stephen’s advances if his reaction in the hospital was any indication. And the worst of all, he still loved the idiot. It seemed that no matter Nick’s past or behaviour, he could never be different enough from the man he’d fallen in love with. And deep down inside him, a voice whispered that this was the same Nick. Their lives had happened slightly differently, but it was the same man.

“You seem deep in thought. Did I screw up spreading the bread?”

It took Stephen a moment to get his head back into the present. “What? Oh, no. It tastes great.” To emphasise his point, he took a hearty bite from his bread with honey and tried not to wince when he realised that Nick had used the salted butter. Only Nick, really.

“What are you thinking about, then?”

“Oh, you know. Just… things.” He knew the minute the words left his mouth that he had replied in the worst possible way. Had he come up with anything, something about wondering when he might get back to work or how the team was maybe, Nick wouldn’t have frowned at him the way he did now.

“Clarify ‘things’ for me,” Nick said slowly, suddenly very attentive and concentrated only on Stephen. It reminded Stephen of other times when a very similar expression had been directed at him, and how different the circumstances were. It didn’t exactly help his situation.

Stephen sighed and decided to go for the half-truth. Because telling Nick, ‘Hey, I’ve just been thinking about how your face looks when we have sex,’ sounded like a bad idea. “I’m just really fed up with being stuck here. I want to finally go out, go running, go back to work… Get things back to normal again.”

“I see,” Nick said and in nearly ironic contradiction averted his eyes from Stephen and got up. “Nobody would blame you for thinking that, Stephen. It’s natural to want at least some things to be like you remember them to make the transition easier.”

There was one thing about Nick Cutter that a lot of people tended to forget; Stephen was sometimes still one of them. The man could read between lines like nobody’s business. It was hard to keep in mind since he mostly didn’t comment on the things people left unsaid, to not make them feel like they’d been caught in a lie. Like Stephen felt now.

“Nick…Cutter,” the pleading tone was a little ruined by his slip of the tongue. He’d rarely ever called his best friend by his first name, it had only started after that fateful last day at their office and even then it had required some getting used to.

“Stop it,” Nick narrowed his eyes, before he turned towards the kitchen shelf and focused his glare on the chaos in there. “I don’t mind you calling me ‘Nick’, what I do mind is the whole back peddling every five minutes.”

“I just don’t want it to be awkward between us.”

“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be awkward if you would just invest a little more trust in me and talk to me. About _things_.” The implication was so clear, it couldn’t even be drowned out by the clattering of plastic cups falling to the ground as Nick continued his search. “Just, try me for once, will you?”

“What are you looking for?” Stephen asked, tired of his own voice.

“The bloody eggcups.”

“They're not in there. They're in the cupboard above the fridge, behind the mixer.”

“Right.” Nick walked over and opened the cupboard with enough force to make it bang loudly against the exhaust hood next to it. He grabbed two eggcups from behind the mixer and turned back when he suddenly froze. “How did you know that?”

It was Stephen’s turn to freeze up. Hadn’t he just claimed that he wanted to avoid awkwardness between them? Well, he was doing one hell of a job in the first five minutes after that statement. “I spent quite some time here,” he began to explain, fully aware that it was only another half-truth. “Sorry.”

It was like something snapped inside of Nick at his apology. With three angry steps he was right in Stephen’s face. And Stephen saw that he wasn’t really angry, just determined to… do something. For a silly moment, Stephen thought that Nick was about to kiss him. The full self-deprecating smile never made it onto his lips, as he felt Nick’s hands on his cheeks.

As he realised that the thought hadn’t been silly at all.

Because Nick’s lips were pressing to his, opening up ever so slightly to let his tongue slip through and glide over Stephen’s bottom lip. And though Stephen was half convinced that he must have blacked out for a few seconds there, his lips parted immediately to let Nick in, bring him closer, connect them again. And Nick was making the most of it, his mouth covering Stephen’s possessively and Stephen wasn’t ashamed to admit that he all but melted into the chair; not even feeling the table’s edge sharply digging into his back. It was just a swirl of emotion, of passion and noises. Soft moans and nearly muted mewls…

It felt like the kiss went on forever before they broke apart again, Stephen gasping harshly for breath. He knew that he was seconds away from a grin that could send him straight to the psych ward. But it was prevented by one simple observation – Nick didn’t look dazed at all. He was still staring into Stephen’s face, but he didn’t seem… Something wasn’t right.

He’d kissed Nick countless times; they hardly ever stopped after they had finally got together. It was like all of a sudden, they had to keep touching each other, always show their appreciation of what they had now. They had been newly in love alright. But the point was; he knew what Nick looked like after they kissed. It wasn’t a conscious knowledge, nothing he had ever realised he had memorised until now. 

He knew Nick’s voice would sound just that little bit hoarse, pronouncing his accents in a way that could only be described as sexy. He knew that Nick’s pupils – his eyes always snapped open a second before their kiss was broken – would be dilated just a fraction, making his usually pale blue eyes look more like Stephen’s darker ones. And, best of all, he knew the sounds Nick made when they were kissing. He hadn’t heard a single sound escape the older man’s throat just now.

At least a part of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Nick frowned at him and took a step back; bringing distance between them when it was their biggest problem. “You alright?” His voice was perfectly even.

“I—” Stephen’s eyes fell on Nick’s hand as it quickly wiped across his mouth and the words died in his throat. He felt as if he’d just been punched in the gut.

Nick froze with his hand still in the air, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he realised what he’d just done. “Oh, bugger. Stephen, I didn’t mean it like that. It was completely unconscious, just a reflex—”

And for one horrifying moment Stephen wasn’t even sure whether Nick was talking about the kiss or the mouth wiping. His thoughts were all cluttered, past and present images flying through his mind and reminding him of the wrong things. It was impossibly hard to focus on the here and now.

“Why did you just kiss me?” There was only one right answer to this question and apparently they both knew it; only Stephen was aware that there were a thousand different ways of saying it. 

Nick started shuffling his feet, looking down at them as if annoyed by what they were doing but not stopping. He didn’t even look up to speak. “I just thought—”

“ _Nick_.”

Finally, his gaze came up to meet Stephen’s. “That’s what you wanted, isn't it?”

Stephen’s jaw dropped and his stomach lurched. That was so far from the right answer, it could be considered its exact opposite. He didn’t know what to say to that, not when every word could make the situation ten times worse. As long as it remained unspoken, it wouldn’t break anything else; not anymore than it already had.

But Nick was so obviously uncomfortable in the silence, he just had to speak up again and Stephen knew what the next words out of his mouth would be before he had even opened it. 

“Look, we’ll have to talk about this later. I’m already late for work, if I don’t get going now…” He turned on his heel, making a quick grab for the keys lying on the kitchen table before he was already striding towards the hallway.

“Nick!” Stephen hadn’t got fully out of his chair by the time he heard the car’s ignition spring to life. With a loud curse he threw the crutch leaning uselessly against the wall to the ground; needing any kind of relief from the impotent anger that had come over him. He didn’t need to check the clock over the kitchen door to know that Nick had a couple of hours left before anyone would even expect him to arrive at the ARC.

If Nick thought he was just going to sit here and wait until he sneaked back in tonight he was sorely mistaken. Yes, Stephen loved him more than anything. Yes, he wished desperately for them to be together again. But never, ever had he wanted Nick to take pity on him and ‘sacrifice’ himself so Stephen could live in an illusion of happiness again. What had he been thinking? That he’d just improvise his way through this? There was no hint of attraction in his behaviour that Stephen had picked up on and even if he had to be honest and say that he hadn’t picked up on any before that fateful day at the office, he prided himself in knowing Nick a lot better now. He wasn’t so easily fooled anymore. And how exactly had Nick expected to fool his way through more intimate parts of a real relationship?

A cold and hacked snort of laughter escaped Stephen, and he was shaking all over. It was Nick. He probably hadn’t thought about this too long or hard, had just seen his own good intentions and went with them – because Professor Nick Cutter never made mistakes or wrong decisions. No matter what his track record said. If he thought he was doing the right thing, then he bloody well was. 

God, how he wished he could say these things to Nick’s face and not just darkly mull them over in his head. But Nick had fled. 

Carefully balancing his weight on the table, Stephen leaned down to angle for the crutch. He would need it to be able to walk out of here. And the longer he thought about leaving, the more it seemed like the right idea. Hell, Nick would probably be glad to see him gone by the time he got back. 

With a little difficulty, he got up and stormed to his room – as much as limping as fast and simultaneously careful with a crutch supporting you could be considered storming. He had to calm down enough to be rational about his next steps. He couldn’t afford the big dramatic exit from Nick’s life to never be seen again; all he knew and cared about was here in London . His job, his friends, even his past (albeit a different one). No, he’d have to stay. Just not right where he was now, not in Nick’s house and if possible as reasonably far away from the other man as he could be. 

He was glad that the few things he owned were neatly packed into two boxes plus a pile of clothes Nick had discovered somewhere in the depths of his house. All he needed was a place to stay. His old mobile was one of the few things he’d had with him when he went after Helen. Still, he hadn’t done anything but recharge it so far. Cautiously, he switched it on, entering Nick’s date of birth to unlock it without having to think about it. The question was; who should he call? Under normal circumstances he would have gone to Nick when he needed help. But right now he needed help getting _away_ from Nick.

Abby. She had told him to call her if he needed anything every time she’d visited. He hadn’t felt comfortable doing so until now, not just because he didn’t really need anything (except for company - but he hadn’t sunken so low just yet) but because she had looked so guilty every time he saw her. He hadn’t dared to ask her directly; this timeline had scarred him enough already and he wasn’t sure he could take any more nasty surprises. In the end it was Connor who’d told him, his eyes speaking volumes of his worry for Abby – and Stephen, as well. 

“She’s still blaming herself because she gave you the cold shoulder after… After the Professor’s ex-wife dropped that bombshell. I don’t think she’s ever forgiven herself that.”

Ironically, Stephen had been glad it had been such a comparatively small thing. He’d told her that he didn’t even remember those things and that there were no hard feelings; but you couldn’t fix a guilty conscience with just a few well meant words. Maybe giving her the chance to help him now would. He checked the time, just to make sure that it wasn’t too early to call Abby up. But he felt his gaze transfixed by the mobile’s screen, staring at the tiny numbers at the edge. It read well past  5pm .

Stephen swallowed heavily. It was just another tiny detail he hadn’t noticed yet. The longer he thought about it, the more logical it seemed that it wasn’t the same time as it had been in his timeline. It was probably a different week, as well and he just hadn’t noticed because he’d lost track of time while he was caught in the past. Just… one more tiny detail. Nothing to worry about. Still, as he opened his address book he couldn’t help but wonder if Abby’s number was the same here.

Shaking his head, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed the green button. It was an irrational fear, but he was infinitely glad when the call signal stopped and Abby’s sleepy voice greeted him.

“Morning, Abby. It’s me, Stephen. Sorry if I woke you up.”

Abby yawned into the receiver. “Nah, I was up. Haven’t gone to bed yet actually. Connor left the window open again and we had to go and look for Rex.” Another yawn. “What can I do for you?” 

“I had a fight of sorts with Nick.” He made a brief pause to let it sink in. “And now I need a place to stay. I know you’re already living with Connor and about a dozen lizards, but it’d only be until I can get something else—”

“Stephen, if you need a place to stay, you come here and stay as long as you need.” She sounded a lot more awake all of a sudden. “If absolutely necessary, we can kick Connor out.” The last words were said louder and probably not directly into the phone, because not a second later he could hear Connor’s incredulous voice in the background yelling, ‘Oi, I heard that! And I promised I wouldn’t let Rex escape again!’

And Stephen found himself smiling into the receiver. “I hope there’s no need for that.”

“We’ll see. Um, do you want one of us to come and pick you up? We already called in and announced that we’d come in later today if there’s no trouble, so technically we both have the time.”

“No, no, that’s okay. You get some rest; I have to pack up some things anyway. I’ll just call a cab. Is it okay if I ring the door bell when I’m there?”

“Of course that’s okay,” Abby’s voice had taken on a chiding tone. “Are you sure you’re fine on your own? And don’t say, ‘I’m a grown and manly man, Abby, I have battled dinosaurs. I can look out for myself during a cab ride.’”

Her impersonation of Stephen was surprisingly spot-on. Though he’d probably have phrased it differently. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you weren’t.” He could practically hear her hesitate for a second before her next question. “Stephen, are you alright?”

There was so much he could say to that. But he decided for the shortest and easiest and still honest reply. “I will be.”

After that he did call for the cab. The lady at the call centre assured him that the driver would take care of any luggage he had to take with him, so there was no need for him to fruitlessly try and move the boxes with his belongings towards the door. It wasn’t all that much in there, but it was surprisingly heavy. The only thing he did need was the little pile of stuff on his bedside table. Those were the few things he’d had on him when he’d left his timeline. Such mundane things they were, too. Just his mobile, a silk handkerchief Lester had once loaned him to press against a nasty cut above his eye (he’d intended to give it back that day), a couple of old cough sweets that probably didn’t taste all that good anymore and his keys.

Sad, he smiled down at the keys. Nick never had asked him how he’d got into the house the day of his release from the hospital. Maybe it was better that way, because Stephen wasn’t sure he could have told his _friend_ that they’d been living together, right here in this house. No, strike that, he wouldn’t have told him. It put only more awkwardness and pressure on the situation. 

Like that still mattered now, he thought wryly and snapped the brown leather cover open to reveal the photo encased in it. Actually, there were two pictures. One of him and his family, the last they had ever had taken together. And the other one of him and Nick, kissing in the middle of a group of people; taken by a drunken Connor the night they had celebrated the ARC’s official opening (and something else, but that had been just for the two of them). 

It was ridiculous how this was all he had left of his old life. He didn’t even have any old voice mail messages, videos or random photos on his mobile since he only ever used it to call or sometimes text people. He’d always made fun of the kids who seemed to store half their life on those things; now just one recording of Nick reminding him to get some fresh milk when he went out with maybe the routine ‘Love you,’ as the message’s end was an unobtainable dream.


	5. Chapter 5

“Can you see him?” Connor knew that he sounded slightly panicked. Somehow the fact that they’d showed up to work at three pm didn’t help him calm his nerves; whether that was due to Lester glaring at them from across the room or just a general discomfort at being the last one there, he couldn’t say.  
  
Abby, on the other hand, was as cool as ever and just rolled her eyes at him. She, at least, had made the most of the couple of hours of sleep they had gathered, the dark circles beneath her eyes having become nearly invisible. “Yes, I can see him through the big see-through window of his office.”  
  
“Good,” he nodded to himself. “Then what’s the plan? Do you walk up there and give him a lecture, or do we ask for backup first? I think I just saw Captain Ryan in Lester’s office. I can go and fetch him in case you need help.”  
  
“Connor, I’m not going to talk to the Professor.” She took his hands in hers and squeezed them gently. “You are. And you’re not going to lecture him, you’re just calmly and matter-of-factly going to tell him that Stephen’s staying with us and there’s no need to be worried.”   
  
Connor stared at her. Technically, he knew that he could just say no. Practically, Abby was smiling that sweet smile of hers at him and he knew that option was out of the window. “Okay,” he agreed, resignedly. He was rewarded with a quick hug and then a slap on the back to turn him into the right direction.  
  
Swallowing down the mixture of emotions, he started walking towards the Professor’s office. This wouldn’t be difficult, right? Cutter had been in a better mood lately and he seemed to value Connor’s input a lot more than he used to. Plus, he only had relatively positive news to deliver. Easing the man’s worries was a good thing. No foreseeable problems.  
  
“Oh, and add that he’d better not show up on our doorstep or I’m going to kick his arse, in Stephen’s name,” Abby yelled after his retreating back.   
  
Connor closed his eyes and mentally asked God why he hated him so much.   
  


 

***

“Professor?”  


Nick’s head shot up from the sheet of paper he’d been staring at for a good hour now. He hadn’t even heard the door open, but Connor was standing just a metre away from his desk; looking like he’d rather face a Velociraptor than be here with Nick.  
  
“Yes, what is it, Connor?”   
  
“Um.” Connor looked around the office for some kind of moral comfort and found it when he gazed out of the window.   
  
Nick followed his line of sight and discovered Abby, sitting innocently on one of the desks in the main room and staring straight up. His eyebrows rose.  
  
“We weren’t sure whether we should tell you or not, since Stephen asked us not to, but…” Nick felt all feeling of his fingertips vanish by the mention of his friend’s name. If they could still be called that now; _friends_. “Stephen’s staying with us. He called this morning from his mobile and he’s okay now, so don’t worry about him. Also… Abby asked me to tell you,” he glanced outside again, gathering strength. “That you shouldn’t come over or she’d, _I‘m quoting_ , ‘kick your arse, in Stephen’s name.’”   
  
Nick wasn’t sure how his jaw didn’t drop to the ground at the statement. Because yes, Connor looked nervous as hell and was fidgeting, but he’d sounded serious and determined at the same time. He may just be the messenger, but he meant the words just as much as Abby had.  
  
“That’s all. If you’ll excuse me, I, um, have to go work on… something.” And before Nick could say anything else, the metal door closed shut behind Connor.  
  
He stared at the door for the space of several heartbeats, thoughts running. He’d been aware that his behaviour this morning was far from what he’d meant it to be. He’d meant to comfort Stephen, repay the debt maybe. Stephen had been doing so much for him, even if it was partly unconsciously. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. It might have even worked, if he hadn’t screwed it up and fled after doing it.  
  
Apparently, he’d just made things worse. Sure, he had expected Stephen to be mad at him. But usually Stephen would confront him if he was angry and they settled their arguments within a day or two. It had always been like that, even after the thing with Helen, Stephen had tried to set things straight again. Only then it had been Nick blocking him, destroying their routine. There had been special circumstances, of course (and in his defence, there were raptors involved).  
  
But now that he thought about it, there were special circumstances this time, as well. Every time he recalled this morning, the fault he found was with wiping his mouth, not kissing Stephen. He’d concentrated really hard to make that kiss work and Stephen had sounded like he’d enjoyed it. No, the other man only became upset when Nick’s brain had stopped concentrating for just a second. Why in God’s name did he have to do that? It wasn’t even that he was disgusted by what he’d done or anything, even if it wasn’t exactly done out of attraction. It was Stephen; nothing to do with him could ever be disgusting (except for maybe his habit of tasting the weirdest things).   
  
Tired, he rested his head against his open palms, hoping for his sanity to return to him soon. He’d royally screwed things up. What could he do to fix things? He couldn’t lose Stephen again, even if it was like this. Knowing he was alive and well, but out of Nick’s reach forever… No, that thought was unbearable. He needed to apologise. Make amends. And for that, he needed to talk to Stephen. But how? He probably wouldn’t let Nick in if he rang Abby’s doorbell.  
  
His eyes snapped open. Connor had mentioned Stephen’s mobile. He didn’t know where that had come from (he sure as hell hadn’t gone shopping the last few days) but it was a glimmer of hope. Yanking the phone from its station, he hastily entered Stephen’s number and pressed the green button. The emerging dialling tone had never sounded so soothing to his ears. However, he didn’t have the time to wonder how Stephen was supposed to still have this number when his call was already disconnected.   
  
Disbelievingly, Nick stared at the phone in his hands. Stephen had cut off his call. Still dumbfounded, he redialled, only to have his call be cut off again. He tried twice more, finally succeeding on the third attempt.  
  
“ _Nick_.” It shouldn’t be possible to put that much resentment and concern into a single word.   
  
“You picked up.”   
  
Stephen sighed into the receiver. “Yes, because by the fourth call I wasn’t sure anymore if it wasn’t some creature related emergency.”   
  
“Oh.” Well, what had he expected?  
  
“What do you want, Nick?” Stephen sounded weary and it made Nick feel very guilty about calling him. Especially since he suddenly couldn’t remember what he was going to say to his hopefully-still-friend.   
  
“I—About this morning. I shouldn’t just have done that without, I don’t know, asking your permission first or something. I just thought it was a good idea. Don’t interrupt me or hang up, please. I have to say this. I’m sorry. I really am. And I know it wasn’t a smart thing to do, much less me leaving afterwards.”  
  
“What are you sorry for?”  
  
The question completely threw Nick off course. He knew he had to apologise, because he’d upset Stephen and he didn’t want them to argue, but... “What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean, do you even know what you’re apologising for? Because I don’t think you do.”  
  
Being speechless while on the phone was conceivably impractical. “About the dramatic exit, of course. And about the mouth wiping, but I already told you that was just a reflex. It didn’t mean anything.”  
  
He wasn’t sure whether or not he imagined the silent chuckle. “Right. But why did you do it, Nick? Why did you kiss me in the first place?”  
  
“Because that’s what you wanted.” He’d never wished to be able to take his words back so badly. Sure, it was the truth (or at least a very big part of it). But it wasn’t the kind of truth you were supposed to talk about.  
  
To his surprise, Stephen just sighed again. He didn’t sound shocked or even disgusted by the revelation, more like he had known it all along. “It’s not what I wanted, Nick. I don’t want you to force yourself to do things just because you think they’re going to make me happy. I wanted… Look, it doesn’t even matter now. It’s obvious that you don’t feel the same way the Nick I remember did and that’s okay. We can still be friends, just… I can’t deal with you right now. It’s just too complicated and it’s not going to go well for either of us if we go right back to where we left off this morning. I need some time to clear my head. I think you do, too.”  
  
“Stephen—”  
  
“Please don’t call me again. I’ll see you when I get back to work. Bye, Nick.”  
  
“But it’s going to take weeks until you get back to—” The words didn’t reach anyone anymore. Stephen had hung up on him.   
  
Stunned, Nick stared at the phone as if it might provide him with much needed answers. It just tooted.   
  
For a moment, he was tempted to redial; but he knew Stephen wouldn’t pick up again. Maybe he’d even shut his mobile off. He would have to do the one thing he was really bad at; wait. Wait for Stephen to contact him. It didn’t help that deep down, what Stephen said made sense. It wouldn’t go over well if they saw each other now.   
  
But then why did he feel so terribly disappointed?   


***

Two and a half weeks later, he found himself in a bar with Jenny; scowling at his glass like it was personally offending him by being empty already. He wasn’t quite sure how many he’d had already tonight since he was in the habit of taking someone along who’d do it for him. Jenny hadn’t volunteered for the spot, exactly, though she had asked him out for drinks after their debriefing.  


It hadn’t been the first time, and Nick had always turned her down, always fearing the old spark for Claudia to lighten up again for Jenny. She wasn’t the same person and even though it had taken him a long time to finally understand it, there was no way they would ever work out. Besides, it wasn’t fair on Jenny to go out with her, still seeing a different woman in his mind. Maybe that was the reason he accepted her invitation today, or maybe it was the worried look she gave him. Whatever it had been, it was painfully obvious to both of them that this wasn’t a date, even though it was painfully unclear to the rest of the world.   
  
“I swear if one more person just assumes that we take our tab ‘together’, I’m going to clobber them over their head with my handbag.”   
  
Nick chuckled. He could appreciate Jenny and her antics all for herself. “I don’t think you can pass that off as an anomaly related accident.”  
  
“You just watch me,” she muttered dangerously and then downed her next shot of Scotch.   
  
It was surprisingly pleasant to get pissed with her, especially since she proved more than capable of holding her liquor. ‘Surprisingly’ because she had really been the last person he could turn to. Stephen was very clearly still unavailable to any sort of social interaction, he wasn’t in contact with his old friends any more (where could he have taken the time from?) and both Abby and Connor… They weren’t taking sides. Not anymore. He suspected that Stephen had something to do with the fact that they behaved neutrally towards him again, but it was still too awkward to talk to them. Especially since he knew full well what kind of truths might escape his lips when he was drunk and he needed someone with him he could trust. So, really, Jenny wasn’t only the last but also the most responsible choice.  
  
“Why’d you ask me out, anyway?”   
  
Amused, she raised her eyebrows at him. “You looked like you needed some cheering up. Or lots of alcohol. Or both. So I thought I should offer.”  
  
A little sheepish, Nick focused on his refilled glass. The barmaid had earned herself one hell of a tip already. “I’ve heard that a lot recently.”  
  
“See? So it must be true. Now, are you drunk enough to tell me what got your knickers in a twist?”  
  
Nick choked on his drink. “I think _you’re_ pretty drunk if you’re talking like this already,” he sputtered. She just dismissed her state of drunkenness with a wave of her fingers.  
  
“Not the point. What’s happened between you and Stephen, Cutter?”  
  
Nick was ridiculously glad he’d set the glass down. It would have been a terrible waste of perfectly good Scotch. “Please tell me that not the whole ARC knows what’s going on. If Lester knew about my love life, I’d probably have to get lost somewhere millions of years in the past with some friendly raptors to replace him.”  
  
Jenny snorted in a very un-ladylike way. “Love life? That’s new. Which probably also answers your question; no one knows anything. Except for Abby and Connor and they only whisper about it when they are well out of eavesdropping reach.”  
  
“Good. Because I’m not entirely sure it can even be called that,” he amended and cocked his head. He had just assumed Jenny to know about all this already, though he wasn’t sure why. It definitely meant that he had to explain a few things first. And bring Claudia Brown up again. She wasn’t going to like that.  
  
About twenty minutes later, he knew for sure that she didn’t like that. But she was also very gracefully not latching onto the topic but instead concentrating on what really mattered for him. “So, let me get this straight. Basically in his timeline, he and you were a couple. He helped you sort some things out here and to return the favour you took his feelings lightly and insulted him by trampling all over them.” She took a good sip from her newly arrived wine glass. “And now you want everything to be like it used to before you screwed up.”  
  
Nick was a little indignant over how she’d summed it up, but couldn’t quite deny that it was true. So instead he just nodded and motioned for the barmaid to come back. “I’m not even sure that’s it. When I think about it, it would make sense for me and Stephen to hook up. That’s what I’d been thinking before I kissed him, too. But it doesn’t seem to be enough.”  
  
Jenny sighed in a women-patented way that somehow expressed her endless frustration over men and all their annoying quirks without actually verbalising it. “Of course that’s not enough. Was that your reasoning behind marrying your wife, as well? Because that would explain so much.” He was about to protest, but she just held up her hand and continued. “If you’re not in love, or at least sexually attracted to Stephen, the two of you can’t come together. Logic won’t help you with this one, _Professor_.”  
  
He grimaced at the drawn out title. “I know that. But I can’t exactly compare this situation to meeting Helen; I’ve known Stephen for nearly a decade. We have been friends for more than half of that. He gave his life for me, Jenny. And then he came back. That alone should be enough to confuse my thoughts and feelings a fair bit, don’t you think?”  
  
She nodded, thankfully taking his words to heart. “And before you have time to figure anything out on your own, you hear that you and he have been together. In a – what was it? Different timeline? Yes. I get that. Different timelines can put a real damper on building relationships,” she said seriously, reminding Nick that she did indeed know what she was talking about. Once again Claudia’s presence was almost palpable in the bar with them.  
  
“Yeah,” he agreed needlessly. It all seemed so difficult to put into words, even though he’d thought it over countless times by now. And every time, he came up short in front of an insurmountable wall inside his head; preventing him from coming to any conclusion.   
  
“I mean, he told me to clear my head and that we could be friends again. But eventually, with all this between us, it’s never going to be the same. He will always remember us in a different way and I will always wonder what could have been if I had done things right. If I have done anything right. It’s like an ultimatum, all of a sudden: either pretend that everything is how it’s supposed to be and maybe lose Stephen over it, or get involved and have a big happy ending.”  
  
Jenny giggled a little at the way Nick pronounced ‘big happy ending’ like it was more far fetched than the things they saw on a nearly daily basis. “So you _do_ have it figured out. That’s a good start. Have you figured out your feelings for Stephen as well?”  
  
“Not really. It just doesn’t add up! I mean, I’ve always been aware of Stephen’s good looks and his charms and what-not. I’ll even admit that I might have considered the option of us at some point, but it never became anything serious; not even in my mind. There was always some one or some thing else. It’s simply absurd that _now_ I’m thinking about it. Now, that I’ve already been given this ultimatum. How can I ever know where those thoughts come from? If I would have ever had them if I hadn’t heard about the possibility?” He paused to catch his breath, his voice suddenly deflated when he spoke up again. “How can I ever know, or tell him, that I’m serious?”  
  
“That’s certainly difficult,” she admitted with sympathy laced in her words. “I’d give you the wonderful advice my mum once gave to me, ‘Imagine what your life would be without him,’ but you have first hand experience in what that’s like and it’s even part of the problem.” She sighed deeply. “Cutter, I can’t help but think that we’re going about this far too consequentially. And I know it sounds girly and probably won’t help you a bit, but you should know the right decision in your heart.”  
  
She was right, Nick knew. With everything she said. He knew that this shouldn’t be decided by logic; couldn’t be in fact. And still it was the best advice he was going to get.   
  
Not much later, they said their good-byes, Jenny not so gracefully climbing into a cab and Nick staggering his short way back to his lonely house. He missed having Stephen there when he came back home, he decided for the umpteenth time as he closed the front door behind him. But was that enough?  
  
It had been such a long time since he had truly been in love, all the sparks after Helen having been extinguished far too early to be called that. Shouldn’t there be more if he really wanted Stephen that way? Shouldn’t he have the proverbial butterflies in his stomach, lusting over the other person 24/7? But no, he chided himself, that was puberty and your embarrassing crush on the neighbour’s daughter; not love. Love came with respect and longing to be with the one you had fallen for, to help them in any way you could and admiration for them being them. It was friendship, he remembered, that went beyond the boundaries of it. Had no boundaries, essentially. Just a very deep-rooted trust.  
  
Nick hesitated for a second before he simply plopped down into the comfort of his bed, too tired to take off anything but his boots. He wiggled under the covers and closed his eyes, expecting sleep to come and take him instantly. He’d have a nice hangover tomorrow, but was too exhausted to get up again to get some water or aspirin. So it came as all the more of a surprise when he didn’t fall asleep instantly but found himself staring at the ceiling, his thoughts still running around in circles.  
  
No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t define anything but one thought. He wanted Stephen to be by his side and never be apart from him again. When he thought about Stephen, a rush of deep affection washed over him and he connected nearly all the things he rationalised to be a necessary part of love with the younger man. But was that really all? He couldn’t help but be disappointed by that conclusion. Because either it wasn’t enough, or he’d unlearned how to truly be in love.   
  
Neither would help him get Stephen back.


	6. Chapter 6

“Honey, are you alright? You don’t look so good.” Stephen wasn’t entirely sure when Abby had taken to calling him honey – and he didn’t mind, really – but he knew if Connor started that he really had to move out again. Luckily, not much kept him from doing so now. His injuries had all nicely healed up over the past month, leading his doctor to the smirking remark that he must really miss being smacked around to get better this fast.  
  
“Yeah. Just thinking, Abby. Don’t worry,” he said with what he hoped to be a reassuring smile.  
  
Still, he could imagine nicer ways for his first morning back at work to start. Most of the staff hugged him on sight, more than one person he couldn’t even remember having seen before. He wondered whether that had anything to do with the changed timeline. Lester, on the other hand, seemed unchanged. He grabbed Stephen’s hand firmly when he entered and nodded once before he motioned for him to sit down so he could start the briefing soon. The rather cool greeting had elicited a couple of disapproving murmurs which their boss undoubtedly heard and simply ignored. Grudgingly, Stephen had to admire the man’s stubbornness. He could have just cleared it up by admitting that he’d been to the hospital a few times, but chose not to. There’s a man who doesn’t care what his subordinates think of him.  
  
The team had been assembled over ten minutes ago, only missing Nick from its ranks. Very clearly displeased, Lester was pacing in front of the big glass table; no doubt planning ways to make Nick pay for his tardiness.  
  
When the Professor finally stepped through the doors, looking completely unruffled except for the moment when he first laid eyes on Stephen, Stephen fervently wished the older man hadn’t shown up at all. Surprisingly, Nick had kept his promise. He hadn’t tried to contact Stephen once after their last conversation over the phone. And though it had been by Stephen’s request, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that Nick had given up on him this quickly. Which was ridiculous, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. At least all that quiet time had given him the clarity he’d needed to set things straight in his head.  
  
No matter what happened next, he wouldn’t let Nick pull any more of his stunts. Yes, he was very much still in love with the other man, but the feeling was clearly one-sided. He’d had his share of one-sided relationships after Helen Cutter had dumped him and the memories of that time were still strong enough to remind him why exactly it was a bad idea. Nick was thinking he did the right thing, maybe wanting to comfort his own guilt with offering Stephen what he so desperately wished for. But it wouldn’t last. Pity was the worst replacement for love and it wouldn’t be nearly enough of a foundation to build a real relationship on. They wouldn’t last a month before it all backfired.  
  
He only hoped that Nick had come to the same conclusion so they could try and rebuild their friendship. Because even though partnership was out of the question, he couldn’t imagine a life without Nick Cutter in it anymore.   
  
Belatedly, he realised that chairs were being pushed back all around him and Jenny’s high heels were already click-clacking out of the room. The briefing was already over. And he hadn’t heard a word of it. Great way to start the week. Sighing, he made to follow the masses suit when a hand on his arm stopped him short.  
  
“Stephen. A word?”   
  
A sinking feeling settled into Stephen’s stomach. Nick. Of course Nick would stop him in the hallway, where nobody would pay any real attention to them. Where was Connor with his endless cascade of questions for Nick when he could for once be useful?  
  
Resigned, Stephen nodded and let Nick lead them to the barely used floor leading to the botanic lab.   
  
“I didn’t know you were coming back to work today,” Nick started, already nervously fidgeting with a button on his shirt.   
  
“I came back a week earlier than originally intended.” Once away from the rest of the ARC’s staff, Stephen sagged against the wall. He still wasn’t used to standing for long periods of time, so the leaning would make it easier on his leg.   
  
“Are you really fit to work again?” Nick asked doubtfully.  
  
“I got the doctor’s clearance, so, yes. But that’s not what you wanted to talk about, is it?” After having this conversation countless times in his head, he just wanted to get it over with.  
  
“No, it’s not,” Nick sighed and moved to lean against the opposite wall, eyes firmly fixed on Stephen. “And you know that, of course. I’m just not sure how to start this.”  
  
“Simply say what you want to say,” Stephen suggested.  
  
Nick rolled his eyes in a not entirely serious gesture of annoyance. “I knew you were going to say that.” He allowed himself a private smile before he continued. “I’ve been thinking about all the things you’ve said and about what it all really means. I even asked someone else for advice.”  
  
Stephen’s eyebrow shot up. “You did?”  
  
“Yes. Because this is -- you are -- very important to me and I wasn’t really successful in figuring this out on my own. So, um, don’t wonder if Jenny glares at you from across the room. It’s her version of worried.”  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stephen said absently. Nick had talked to Jenny? About them? That was… well, unexpected. Maybe it had been a bit more than the desire to satisfy his own guilt, Stephen mused.  
  
Stephen watched in nearly diabolic fascination as Nick squirmed opposite him, obviously trying to find the words and courage to start talking. In the end, he took pity on the other man.   
  
“So, what did your thinking result in?”  
  
“I want you to be a part of my life. I don’t want to lose you again.”  
  
Stephen nearly choked on his next breath. If Nick was going to blurt it out like that anyway, what the hell had he been agonising over before?   
  
“Well, I agree. I definitively don’t want to lose your friendship.”  
  
“No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want us to be like we were before. I mean a relationship like you remember.”  
  
Stephen briefly closed his eyes, reminding himself of all the times he’d thought this through. “Nick, you have to be honest with yourself. A relationship based on pity would never work. And frankly, I don’t—”  
  
“It’s not pity!” Nick overrode Stephen firmly, startling the younger man ever so slightly. “It never was. I honestly think that this,” he motioned between them, “could work.”  
  
“You haven’t thought this through. I’m not going to _try_ this with you, Nick, only to have you realise after a week that this isn’t what you really want. We just have to be friends.”  
  
“That’s not enough. I want to have you by my side, everyday. I want you to be the person I come home to. Theoretically, at least. In practical terms we’d probably come home around the same time. But that’s not the point,” he pushed himself off the wall, grabbing Stephen’s shoulders and pulling him towards him.  
  
The gesture was so utterly possessive, Stephen had to swallow hard just at the look in Nick’s eyes. _He’s not serious_ , he reminded himself. _He just thinks this is the right thing to do_. As Nick leaned in, Stephen finally found the strength to get his hands between them, splaying them across Nick’s chest and bringing him to a halt. Nick didn’t know what he was doing. He couldn’t tell exactly how he knew, but this Nick was different from the one who’d been in love with him. There was only one way to make Nick realise that, as well.  
  
“Stop. If you’re really serious, tell me how you feel about me,” Stephen said and looked straight into the other man’s eyes. They were so close.  
  
Nick swallowed visibly. Once. Twice. His gaze flickered to the side and back again. His tongue shot out to wet his lips, mouth working mutedly before he closed it again and cleared his throat. “I care about you,” he finally said softly.  
  
A sad smile crept onto Stephen’s face and he let his forehead fall against Nick’s, taking in their closeness one more time. “I know. But you always have and…” His eyes snapped open again, staring into Nick’s. “It’s not enough.”  
  
Carefully, he untangled his fingers from where they had unconsciously tangled into the fabric of Nick’s t-shirt. He took a deep breath and stepped back, no longer meeting Nick’s gaze. He felt like he would burst (out) into tears if he did. Turning back the way they came from, he started walking, not looking back when Nick called his name. He didn’t see Nick’s outstretched hand, grabbing thin air before it fruitlessly sank back down to his side again.  
  
He knew this was the right decision. Nick wasn’t serious about a relationship; he was just confused by the more than complicated circumstances. They wouldn’t work out.  
  
But then why did it feel so wrong to walk away from him?

  
***

Nick stared after Stephen helplessly. It wasn’t like he had anything new or convincing to say that would justify running after him and confronting him in the middle of the main room. Frustrated, Nick ran a hand through his hair before he turned back to his own office. They were running in circles with this conversation. Stephen didn’t trust him enough to go any further than friendship, even though he so obviously wanted to. Worst of all, Nick couldn’t even blame him. His reasons were weak, he was all too aware of that.   
  
I don’t want to lose you.  
  
For all that it was true; he could see clearly why it wouldn’t be enough. Sighing, he nodded at Connor as he moved past the anomaly detector; too deep in his thoughts to notice Jenny behind it. He hadn’t wanted to confront Stephen like this. In his imagination, they would have calmly sat down together, maybe have a coffee and reasonably discussed the matter, maybe even come to a solution. He hadn’t wanted to let Stephen see how unsure he still was of his own feelings. The whole situation was just insane. But how could he ever figure it all out?  
  
He’d had over a month to think it all through. A month of relative peace and quiet, not seeing or hearing from Stephen once. With his hand on the cool metal doorknob, Nick halted, tilting his head thoughtfully. Maybe that was the key? He hadn’t had any chance to actually be around Stephen after the whole thing started. He only could try to clarify his emotions by thinking about them, rationalising everything. Basically doing the exact thing that had got them into this mess in the first place.   
  
Jenny had told him that logic wouldn’t help him, that he would have to trust his heart. And as much as his hackles raised at the cheesiness of that thought, she’d had a point. And he’d tried. Only how was he supposed to know how he felt about Stephen when he wasn’t around the other man? For lack of a better expression, he needed to experiment with this. Needed to feel his own reactions and maybe make sense of them that way.  
  
For the first time in what felt like ages, Nick felt relieved. He was closer to resolving their problem, he knew it. Determined to track Stephen down, he turned on his heels; not having stepped foot in his office. Of course, the very moment he reached the main room and spotted Stephen talking to Abby, all hell broke loose around them.   
  
The anomaly detector alarm had started up and Nick wondered, not for the first time, why the whole building had to be made aware of when an anomaly opened by that much light and noise.  
  
At least, it got the whole team gathered very fast.   
  
Not ten minutes later, Lester had barked a handful of instructions down from the railing in front of his office, seemingly having received a call at roughly the same time the detector went off. Predictably, he scurried back to his phone and left Captain Ryan to clarify the situation for the team.   
  
“It seems like only one creature came through before the anomaly immediately closed again. We only know about it because while it’s in the middle of a park, there was a wedding ceremony taking place when the thing crashed it.”  
  
“Do we know what it is?” Nick asked, not sure whether he should be relieved or worried by that report just yet.  
  
Ryan shook his head, but his expression remained controlled, calming Nick down a little. “No. But it’s about the size of a cat, a normal housecat that is. No sabre tooth. And it vanished as quickly as it could, so we’re going to need a tracker.” He faced Stephen and received a nod before he could verbalise the question directly. “Alright. We’re going in with a small team then, team alpha and me, plus Hart. The rest of the scientists should stay here.” This time, he eyed Connor, and Nick had the feeling that Ryan still hadn’t forgiven the young man for sneaking into the back of the truck on the last mission. Probably because he’d nearly got them all killed later. Connor nodded sheepishly, carefully edging behind Abby before he dared a weary smile. The young woman just grinned and patted the hand on her shoulder, giving a small half-wave to the soldiers before they started marching towards the garage, Stephen only a step behind them. If you didn’t know what to look for, it was easy to miss the slight hobble.  
  
“I’m coming as well,” Nick yelled quickly and jogged to catch up to Stephen. Both the younger man and the captain raised an eyebrow at him. He usually didn’t volunteer when he’d explicitly been told that he wasn’t needed. “You might need my help identifying it. Stephen will have to concentrate on tracking it down, so…” He shrugged, mentally smacking himself upside the head for sounding so desperate.  
  
“Of course at least one of you had to protest,” Ryan said and started marching faster, though he didn’t seem angry.   
  
Stephen on the other hand, didn’t look pleased by his announcement. “What are you planning, Nick?”  
  
Nick tried to look offended, but the way Stephen’s eyes narrowed made him quickly drop the pretence. There was no harm in telling him, after all. “I just want to stay with you.”  
  
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Stephen said, but his words lacked any real heat.  
  
“I know,” Nick said absently, fumbling through his pockets. “Have you seen the truck’s key?”  
  
The small jingling sound made his head turn to find the silver metal dangling from Stephen’s fingers. He contemplated snatching them away, but the stern look on Stephen’s face told him that should he try, he’d regret it dearly.   
  
The few boxes of equipment they’d need for this little trip were already on the truck’s rack, one of Ryan’s men hurrying to catch up with the others after he helped out. They got in, Nick scarcely refraining from reminding Stephen to put on the seatbelt before he turned the key. He busied himself with switching through the various radio stations, not knowing what to say that wouldn’t turn into a repetition of what had been said before. Stephen on the other hand focused completely on the road ahead of him, completely different from how he usually drove. It had always made Nick laugh when Stephen would get so absorbed in one of the songs from the radio that he’d curve the car in a matching rhythm. He never seemed to notice, until he turned his head to ask Nick something, maybe about the next turn or where they planned on sleeping tonight and then saw the wide grin on his friend’s face.  
  
Today’s ride was as different as it could possibly have been. Eventually, Nick just settled for some catchy pop song, half wishing Stephen actually would look at him and ask if he’d lost his good taste in music. Before he knew it, he was drumming his fingers on the door in the rhythm, only frowning slightly as he realised he was doing it and then shifting his attention to Stephen – just watching him, with his face intentionally blank, skin paler than usual due to his forced bed rest and recovery. His hair was also a bit longer than normal, no fluffy spikes now, just all roughly combed to the right side and fixed with some hair gel. It suited him, Nick thought absently. But then, barely anything could tarnish a face like that.  
  
Nick started at the thought, wondering where it had come from. As if to make sure that he’d really thought it, he glanced over again, only this time dark blue eyes met his.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused.  
  
The blue intensified as Stephen’s eyes narrowed at him. “We’re here, Nick.”  
  
“Oh. Right.” Feeling stupid, Nick unbuckled his seatbelt and took a look through the window. They stood on a wide open gravelled parking space, making Nick mentally smack himself. Not noticing the truck had come to a halt was one thing, but the change from paved road to slippery ground? He should have at least noticed that.  
  
Sighing, he quickly got out and hurried to the truck’s rack, not wanting Stephen to lift the heavy boxes alone out of habit. They only really needed two of them, tranquillisers all they could use when Stephen’s eyes and experience were all that were necessary to get this done. Stephen shouldered the rifle with practised ease and Ryan was efficient as usual, diverting the group into two teams. One to go and find and guard the anomaly to make sure that nothing else would come through and the second with Nick and Stephen to find the creature. Two soldiers went with them, to protect the academics and herd the creature back through the anomaly.  
  
The park made a nice diversion from the usual environment they tracked animals in. Beyond, they could see wooded areas with shrubby undergrowth. Well-tended fresh green surrounding them, flowers blossoming in a range of yellow colours, a curious grey squirrel crossing their path and sniffing in their direction before sprinting up the next tree; it was all quite nice, really.  
  
Of course, it didn’t last long. The first ‘sign’ they got from the creature was a low growl and Thompson stopping mid-step to make them listen. Slowly, they turned left, just in time to see leaves rustling simultaneously to another growl.   
  
“The captain said cat-sized, right?” Thompson whispered, sounding more nervous than he would probably admit later.   
  
Nick nodded, eyes fixed on the now completely rustling bushes. “We don’t know if it’s a carnivore yet, though.”  
  
Thompson slowly cocked his gun, gesturing for his colleague to do something; Nick had never understood the whole hand-gesture-language. The other soldier just inclined his head and bent down to pick up a small branch lying on the path, checking with his superior officer one last time before he threw it into the bushes. The result was an ear splitting howl and the fast footsteps of something running away as fast as it could. Thompson flashed a quick grin.  
  
“You wait here, we'll manage this,” he yelled as he was already sprinting after whatever was fleeing from him.   
  
“Sure, you do that. We’ll just have tea and discuss books,” Stephen muttered; too low for the soldiers to hear.   
  
Nick chuckled a little at the remark, understanding the frustration at least partially. It happened more often than not that some of the soldiers would treat them like they had no idea what they were dealing with and were more of a hindrance. In Nick’s opinion, they’d proven often enough that they were capable of handling the most absurd situations, but if it came down to it, the military personnel still left them behind if they could. Only, usually Stephen wouldn’t be. He had the men’s respect and was friends with a couple of them; sadly that seemed to mean that after his return they were too concerned for his fragile well-being to take him into account.   
  
“We don’t actually have to sit here and twiddle our thumbs,” Nick suggested as he heard the familiar beeping of the anomaly detector in his backpack and was pleased to find Stephen’s attention shift to him instantly while he was digging through his small backpack. “Looks like the anomaly’s opened up again and we’ve got one of the anomaly detectors with us, so we can just go there and see the big finale as well.”  
  
“Good idea.” Stephen leaned the rifle against the nearest trunk and leaned over Nick’s shoulder to get a look at the detector’s screen. “Shortcut?” he asked and Nick shivered a little at having Stephen’s mouth so close to his ear.  
  
“Only if you let me lead the way.”  
  
Stephen huffed out a laugh and took a step back, making a mock bow. “By all means, lead on.”   
  
“You forgot to add the ‘McDuff’.” Nick shook his head, but did take the first step onto the soft green grass to their right. “And you know it’s for the better. Every time you take a shortcut, you get lost. I wonder sometimes how you can call yourself a tracker with that sense of orientation.”  
  
“I don’t call myself that,” Stephen said indignantly as he took hold of a branch Nick had accidentally let whip back. “You usually just introduce me as one and I don’t argue. Plus, I don’t get lost when I’m tracking something. It only happens when you’re there, distracting me by pointing and babbling about whatever catches your fancy while we’re walking.”  
  
“You just keep telling yourself that.” Nick quickly checked with the detector and adjusted his direction a bit to the left. His mind was as scattered as it ever got today. A part of him was thinking about how sticking to Stephen was already proving to be a good idea while the other was already rushing on ahead of them, planning for any eventualities that might occur once they reached the anomaly. At the same time keeping up his banter with Stephen and staying on course was proving a bit more difficult than expected.   
  
“I will. Watch out for the tree you’re about to run into.”  
  
Nick looked up again just in time to stop. He looked at the trunk in a mixture of confusion and annoyance, not sure which was the appropriate reaction.  
  
“I’m sure the tree has been here before you,” Stephen supplied helpfully, amusement clear in his voice. “But what do I know? He might have snuck up on you while you were busy _navigating_.”  
  
Growling, Nick turned around, finger in the air to emphasise his lecture about making fun of the man with the map – or, in this case, anomaly detection device – when his gaze fell on the bushes behind Stephen. They were moving slightly, against the wind. His mouth dropped open when he saw the typical reptilian yellow eyes barely hidden behind the leaves and without thinking he made a very obvious gesture in the direction to make Stephen aware of it.  
  
Predictably, the creature shot out of its hiding the exact moment Stephen spotted it and incidentally wasn’t quite balanced. It rammed into his side faster than either of them could react, making Stephen connect with the ground hard. For a second Nick was torn between leaping towards Stephen and moving out of the way, but the decision was taken from his hands when a furry head connected with his midsection, driving him hard against the trunk behind him. Breath knocked out of him, he slid to his knees, coughing. And from there he finally got a good look at the creature, as it was staring straight at him.   
  
The witnesses had been right; it was indeed cat-sized, even with similar ears and tail. The fur’s colour however was a dark green, a colour he’d never before seen in fur. It stood on four paws, but none seemed to have claws, which calmed him down just a fraction, until the creature growled very low, with his teeth showing. Those were no herbivore teeth and Nick was suddenly very aware of the red covering its snout. It was dried up and looking a little rusty in the soft light green hairs, the snout itself more similar to that of a bear than a dog, a part of Nick’s brain recognised, as it came close to his face. He did the one thing that often miraculously worked with big hungry dinosaurs – he kept perfectly still, painfully aware of the way a muscle in his right upper arm was twitching.   
  
He could feel the hot breath on his face, resisting the urge to grimace at the foul smell that left the creature’s mouth. Definitely not herbivore. The wet nose bumped lightly into his cheek and he could see Stephen carefully struggling up again with his eyes flitting nervously from the creature to Nick and back again. Nick tried to convey somehow that he shouldn’t do anything, no hasty movements or thrown rocks. Right now this animal didn’t see them as a threat, as long as it stayed that way he was reasonable safe.   
  
The eerily yellow eyes gazed into his face for a moment longer, before the creature obviously lost interest in him and turned around with a drawn out yawn showing off all its tiny razor sharp teeth. It would only have to rotate its head a few more centimetres until Stephen came into its field of vision. Frantically, Nick looked around, seeing Stephen doing the same out of the corner of his eye. They needed somewhere to hide in… And suddenly, Nick had an idea.   
  
If the creature didn’t have claws, it couldn’t climb. They were in a forest. His back was directly to a large tree trunk. Leaning a little forward to check the tree behind him, Nick saw the low branches and small holes in the wood. It had been well over two decades since he’d last climbed a tree (and the last time had involved a lot of alcohol and no success whatsoever), but he should be able to do it.   
  
Another growl distracted him and he saw Stephen standing frozen to the spot, an imitation of Nick’s tactic just now. The creature was already moving towards him and Nick could see Stephen’s body starting to shake. The tremor travelled up from his left leg and slowly became stronger. It took Nick a moment to remember Stephen’s not too long healed injuries and with a start, he realised that the creature was flattening its ears and ducking its head, slowing down its steps. It was about to attack.   
  
Nick did a quick U-turn, looking for something big enough to – there. Quickly, he bent down to pick up the large branch a metre away from him and threw it as far as he could. But the branch was a little too big and it only flew into the nearby bushes. Looking back, he saw it dash after the branch and Stephen get underway in his direction. The nod he gave was almost subconscious, as he turned back and grabbed for the nearest bit of tree he could reach to haul himself up. He found leverage with his foot quickly and pushed himself upward as fast as he could. The next branch he grabbed wasn’t as stable as it had looked and easily broke away, leaving his hand screeding over the rough bark before he found another bit of wood he could grab onto. With a last pull he made it into the little space where the tree parted into three limbs. He heard an angry hiss from somewhere beneath and whipped his head around to see Stephen’s hand appear next to him, searching frantically for support. Leaning forward without thinking Nick made a grab for Stephen’s shoulder and elbow, pulling him up in one swift motion and propelling them both backwards against one of the limbs.  
  
It knocked the breath right out of both of them and Nick frantically tried to get some kind of hold to keep them from tumbling straight down again before he realised that they weren’t going to. He could still hear the growling and hissing, but it wasn’t coming any closer. Still running on adrenaline, he happily pulled Stephen just that little bit closer into a real embrace and started laughing. He could feel the responding laughter rippling through Stephen’s body directly against his and somehow, that made him laugh even harder.   
  
They lay like that, Stephen more or less on top of Nick and both laughing like loons, until Nick’s stomach began to hurt and he really had to catch his breath. Stephen, though no doubt fitter than Nick, was also panting as he pushed up and back a little to peek through the layer of leaves and branches next to them.  
  
“It’s circling the tree. Doesn’t look like it can climb,” he gasped and looked back to Nick.  
  
Nick just lay there, gazing up at his friend. The trace of a smile was still playing across Stephen’s lips and God, he looked gorgeous. Hair ruffled and face flushed, eyes brighter than usual and lips slightly parted. Acting on instinct, Nick reached up to cup his cheek, stroking his thumb over the smooth skin before pulling the younger man back down on him. He brushed his lips against Stephen’s, moving his hand to bury it in the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck. He could hear the sigh escaping Stephen’s lips as he stroked the soft curls there and smiled against his lips, feeling utterly content.   
  
It was sweet and fabulous - and too short. After only a few moments, Stephen broke their connection, looking a little more flustered than before and eyes quickly flickering to the side. Nick still had his hands on him, since Stephen didn’t seem to mind for now, his mind on other things as he continued to stare at the bark next to Nick’s head.  
  
“We talked about this,” he finally said, slowly, softly. Like he was telling himself as much as Nick. “And even if you think you’re serious… it’s just the adrenaline, Nick.” His eyes were pleading and it broke Nick’s heart a little to see him struggling like that.   
  
He could see how much Stephen wanted him to agree, just to get this thing, this _issue_ , between them finally resolved. To get them both back to common ground, to make this easier and just be the closest of friends again. But he could also see the way his mouth tightened in the way it only did when Stephen was deeply troubled about something, with either snakes or Helen close by. And just like that, he couldn’t bring himself to take the easy way out.  
  
“Sorry,” he mumbled instead, untangling his hands from Stephen’s neck. It didn’t even sound like he meant it, but Stephen just nodded and carefully edged further away until he was leaning against the branch opposite Nick, still averting his eyes.   
  
All of a sudden, a sizzling noise from behind Nick startled them both. It took Nick a second to realise that it was just the radio in his rucksack. Quickly getting it out and holding it out for Stephen to see, he pressed the button.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Is that you Professor?” It was hard to make out whose voice it was with all the crackling, but Stephen mouthed ‘Ryan’ opposite him and Nick belatedly recognised the familiar drawl. The captain, on the other hand, seemed to correctly assume that the only one who wouldn’t answer the radio with identification was bound to be Nick. “Thompson and Lamin just arrived at the anomaly, after they stopped chasing _squirrels_.” The last word was spoken louder and probably not just directed at the receiver. “Are you alright? We found Hart’s rifle and got a little worried that you might’ve been eaten.”  
  
“We’re fine. We even found the creature. It’s right beneath our feet, waiting for us to drop from the tree,” Nick explained dryly.  
  
He wasn’t sure, but it sounded like Ryan was sighing. “Of course it is. Can you give us some idea as to where exactly you are?”  
  
Wordlessly, he handed the radio over to Stephen who immediately began to describe Ryan their location and give him a more detailed description of the creature. When he finished, he handed the small black device back to Nick and sighed deeply.   
  
“They’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” he told Nick needlessly since he’d of course heard what Ryan had said just as well as Stephen had. But Nick just nodded, not really able to concentrate on anything at the moment. Silence came over them, but it was a very uncomfortable one, with Stephen squirming against the trunk as he unconsciously pressed a hand to his bent leg as he looked everywhere but at Nick.  
  
“I didn’t even notice I left the rifle behind earlier,” he eventually blurted out nervously. Somehow, nervousness and Stephen didn’t fit well together in Nick’s head.  
  
“Neither did I,” he supplied and was about to add something to get a conversation going again, when he saw the dark shapes of several men sneaking closer from the left. Wordlessly, he gestured towards them. They watched in silence as Ryan and his men made short work of the creature, hitting it with a tranquilliser before it had the chance to notice them. Seeing how easy it looked now, Nick felt ever so slightly incapable.   
  
It didn’t take more than a few minutes before Ryan looked around and up, biting down on the laughter that was so obviously threatening to spill from his mouth. “It’s fine now. You can come down if you like,” he said with barely controlled amusement before he turned back to Thompson and schooled his face back into a stern expression. Looked like the man wouldn’t be forgiven for going after a rodent instead of a prehistoric creature with sharp teeth too soon.  
  
“We should get out of this tree,” Nick stated the obvious and began the climb down after he saw Stephen’s distracted nod. Not that he wasn’t glad that things had gone this smoothly in the end; it was nice to escape without any new injuries from time to time. But he could have used some more time with Stephen, to figure things out after that kiss. Halfway down the tree, Nick halted, feeling around for some kind of knot he could rest his foot on safely. He’d acted without thinking there, doing the first thing that came to his mind when he had his friend on top of him. And it had felt like a good decision…   
  
Nick frowned at himself. He’d done it on instinct. Because he’d wanted to. No further intentions and no thoughts of how this wasn’t so bad or it made sense in a way. No logic whatsoever involved, in fact. Just too much excitement, maybe.   
  
After he got solid ground back under his feet, Nick reached out his arms to carefully help Stephen down without putting too much pressure on his left leg. Stephen smiled at the gesture and steadied himself with one hand on Nick’s shoulder, holding himself upright. Nick just looked at him thoughtfully, letting his eyes wander over that remarkably handsome face and trying to figure out what he was feeling now, with the excitement gone.  
  
When Nick didn’t show any intentions of letting go of Stephen, the younger man looked at him quizzically. And Nick did the only thing that seemed to make sense with Stephen looking at him with that adorable frown and soldiers scurrying about the area. He used his hold on Stephen to push him gently against the tree trunk and leaned in close, not hesitating for a second before he kissed Stephen.   
  
It was far from the kiss they’d shared in the shaky branches a few metres above ground; it was possessive and demanding, with Nick’s tongue seamlessly sliding into the younger man’s mouth and shoving against the tongue he met there. Stephen’s head thumped back against the wood under the force of the assault on his mouth, a drawn out moan being stifled by Nick’s mouth on his. The sound sent a hot shiver down Nick’s body, making him bite down on Stephen’s lower lip and receiving a startled yelp before he pulled away again.  
  
Stephen stared at him with wide eyes, the hand on his shoulder fisted into the fabric and keeping the older man from stepping away. Not that he wanted to. “That’s… extremely inappropriate,” Stephen gasped, one eye already checking to see if they had been watched.  
  
Nick tilted his head fractionally forward. “Yes,” he agreed. “But it’s not adrenaline.” He pulled Stephen’s lower body against his in one smooth motion. “And _this_ is definitively not pity.”  
  
Stephen stared at him for a second, and then his gaze flicked down and up again, his mouth forming a perfect little ‘o’.   
  
“Professor—” They jumped apart so hastily, Stephen hit his head against the trunk again and Nick stumbled ungracefully to the ground. As Captain Ryan rounded up to them, he looked at both of them with raised eyebrows before just shrugging. He had slowly got used to handling scientists, after all. “We’re all packed up here. Only thing left to do is throw that thing back through the anomaly.”  
  
He watched them expectantly and Nick had the sinking feeling that the Special Forces soldier had an inkling of what had just happened here. Nick swallowed hard before getting back on his feet with a nod. “We’re on our way then.”  
  
“Right,” Ryan said slowly before shaking his head fractionally and walking away.  
  
More than a little nervous, Nick turned back to Stephen who still looked like he wasn’t sure he was awake or having one hell of a weird dream. He cleared his throat loudly until Stephen focused on him, mild amusement on his face as if to say ‘Subtle, Nick.’  
  
Nick liked it a lot better than his expression before. “Let’s get home,” he suggested.  
  
And for a moment their eyes locked, with Stephen studying him, searching for something. Nick wasn’t sure if he’d found it, but the slight sigh and step forward was all he needed for now.   
  
“Wherever that may be,” Stephen muttered. It didn’t sound bitter, just tired and Nick did the first thing that came to his mind; he wrapped an arm around Stephen’s waist and pulled him closer. It was a more conscious decision than the kiss had been, but it was also what Nick really wanted. He wanted to see Stephen happy and he wanted him as close as possible. The thought made him smile softly and he hooked his thumb into one of the loops of Stephen’s jeans.  
  
“Exactly where it’s been after you left there a month ago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/47538.html)  
> Beta:fififolle  
> New A/N: As I'm importing this fic to AO3 seven years after I first posted it... I decided to mark it as complete. Once upon a time it was supposed to become seven chapters and then the last one accidentally got deleted and I never had the will to re-write it. I think it works out like this anyway. :)

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/44583.html)  
> Beta:fififolle  
> A/N: So, this is the Fic of Doom I have mentioned a couple of times. I started writing on it after I saw episode 2.07 and yes, it's fix-it fic. There are no spoilers for season 3 whatsoever, not even teeny tiny little hints.


End file.
